


For Charity

by Lizzy0305



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM talk & action, Bachelor Auction, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, French translation available, Humor, Innuendo, M/M, Sexual Humor, Voice Kink, Voyeurism, but not between H/S, charity events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:10:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 100,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzy0305/pseuds/Lizzy0305
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry agrees to be sold on a bachelor auction, he doesn’t expect Malfoy to buy him. When Severus finally gets his new DADA professor, he doesn’t expect a series of charity events to come along as well. And neither of them expects their new friendship with a certain Italian gentleman to cause such a havoc in their lives. Yet it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Before I would start posting the new chapter, I had to go over and reform this fic as it just didn't feel alright to me anymore. Chapters were broken apart, some corrections were made, and titles were changed. I apologize both for the hiatus and for this reconstruction.
> 
> Don't expect quick uploads and you may be surprised. In return of your patience however, I offer: Severus/Harry, smut, lot of dirty talk, suggestive themes, talk about BDSM, innuendoes and subtlety, a handsome Italian, nice pictures, courtesans and kings, expensive wine and in overall, a light, hopefully funny story, written to entice and ensnare the senses. This part though may fail. I'm still working on this part, actually.
> 
> There will also be mention of Ron/Hermione, Draco/Original Male Character and a brief SS/HP/OC thing - but dont let that discourage you. This story is and will remain Snarry.
> 
> I also got a playlist for this one: 8tracks.com/captainvulcan/kings-courtesans
> 
> And as always, I owe my life to Sexy. Lil. Emo, she edited this too and provided encouragement, the very thing I needed to write. Oh and yeah... I'm not Italian. There will be a bit of Italian down below and if it doesn't make sense, let me know how it will make sense and I'll correct it right away! There will also be a tiny Italian-English dictionary later on.
> 
> French translation of the story is available thanks to Nausicaa20012 right here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12192332/1/

**Prologue**

**o.O.o**

Severus looked at the mountain of workload on the side of his desk and ran ten fingers through his hair.

"You cannot do this to yourself anymore, dear boy."

"I am perfectly fine, Albus."

"Tired is what you are, Severus," said the portrait.

The Headmaster, the current one, looked up at the old man who was hanging right above his head. The low, shimmering pain in his head returned and he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to will it away with no actual success.

It was only the middle of the semester, they were just over Christmas and his Defence against the Dark Arts professor had already deserted his post. Severus always critically scrutinized Albus Dumbledore's choices for the job until he had become Headmaster of Hogwarts eight years ago. First year he did not have a problem with the selection, Carrow came and no one had a word in it besides Lord Voldemort. But after that first horrid year, it was up to Severus Snape to choose the most suitable candidate for job.

The selection was narrow from the start. People had heard about the curse on it, from way before Severus had occupied the head position. Though some people became more interested in teaching this particular subject after Voldemort's downfall, the number of applicants was still closer to zero than ten. The curse was still holding back the brave idiots who thought they could manage a classroom full of even bigger idiots.

And so during the summer after the war had ended, Severus, already extremely busy with managing the rebuilding of the castle, broke away from the school and went to the Hog's Head for five interviews. The first candidate was barely nineteen years old and had studied at Beauxbatons. She was gorgeous and when Severus asked her what her knowledge consisted of she spouted the biggest bullshit Severus had ever heard in his entire career. Longbottom knew more about potions than this chit about the Dark Arts. When the Headmaster marched to the door and tore it open, the second candidate, who had been eavesdropping on the question he might also get, fell straight in.

Oh the irony wasn't lost on Severus.

He hexed the man out straight away.

After that, he settled with Applicant Four. Old man, very old, he had fallen asleep while explaining to Severus how to protect himself from curses. The professor just watched the man irritated but still somehow envious of his peace, listening to the long deep snores. But he was once a Ravenclaw and he still knew more than all the others put together.

During the exams, just when a third year girl was to handle a boggart, the shifter chose the old man's face. Severus witnessed as the girl, perfectly applying her studies in the subject, imagined his teacher in no other than frilly, scarlet underwear which brought laughter out of the whole Great Hall. The old man ashamed of the assumption that he would prefer women's undergarment or perhaps displeased that the truth had been revealed, slapped the young girl. He was immediately sacked and flooed to St. Mungo's with a broken nose and arm, courtesy of Headmaster Snape.

Second and third year was even worse. Severus had only one applicant both years and both left before the exams, forcing the Headmaster to substitute as he could not find anyone else for the time being. Interestingly there wasn't any grade below Exceeds Expectations these two years.

Forth year seemed devastating during summer as Severus did not have a single candidate. But Snape was being used to fight for what he wanted and he wanted a Defence Professor more than anything. So he promised allowances and flexible schedules and whatever the dunderheads needed to be convinced that this was their dream job. When only Stan Shunpike applied Severus thought he would give up his own position immediately. However, a reassuring shoulder-grip and a floo call later, Minerva stood in front of him with his newest Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Luna Lovegood. Severus laughed; harder than ever. It was not appreciated. Minerva had not spoken a word to him in the next week, and that was when Severus had learned that without Minerva McGonagall, he would be already buried under a mountain of paperwork. Grudgingly, he sent a letter to Miss Lovegood who was more than eager to return. She wasn't that bad, though she often deferred from the curriculum and had the weirdest methods. But her students produced good grades, so Severus shut his mouth and was happy that the curse had not activated yet.

Until it did. And Miss Lovegood flew away with another naturalist and started hunting a long dead or most likely non-existent creature somewhere in South America, leaving a miserable Severus Snape and Defence Professor-less school behind. Again.

Fifth year was the worst. The guy took off with one of his N.E.W.T students. Severus thought he would never wash the shame off himself and the school. He was fed up at this point. And that was when the miracle happened. _She_ applied.

Sheila was perfect. Born from two muggles, she was ecstatic when it came to anything magic related. She knew everything about anything and not just her subject; she was enthusiastic about the job, about the prospects, about teaching young minds. She was great at conversations, even the staff loved her. Her students adored her even though she had handed out almost as much detention as Snape did back in the old days. Funny and witty, she charmed everyone even Severus. She regulated the kids, helped out with the extracurricular activities, produced the greatest grades – and became pregnant in February. Severus had never been so heartbroken, he felt cheated when she moved away at the end of the term. He gifted her with a photo of the staff she had befriended but the witch wanted more. She took the love of her life with herself as well: Severus' own Arithmancy teacher. Two professors he had lost because of the love affair.

Vector was easily replaced, her position wasn't hunted by a curse after all. But the Defence position caused many headaches to Severus that summer again. That was the year when Draco's punishment, set by the Ministry after the war, was up. He had been forced to teach Muggle Studies because the Minister thought he ought to learn too from the people he wanted to enslave. His godson, funnily enough, had started to rather enjoy teaching it after the first year or so and he became quite good at it too. Severus begged him to leave the position but Draco was scared of the curse and besides, Muggle Studies pissed of his father, which he enjoyed immensely.

That was the first time they had mentioned Potter. Because Potter would stop this, he _would_ break the curse and Severus knew it. But he would not ask the brat even if his life depended on it. Their history was over and they had no more business with each other. He had not seen the boy in five years and it was perfect like that.

Just when he was about to take the job himself, Charlie Weasley came to his rescue on a dragon. Quite literally. He and his gang of dragon keepers wanted to establish a new colony in Britain. While the dragon sanctuary was building, Mr. Weasley couldn't operate in Romania as he had to oversee the work in Scotland but he did not want to laze around either. He was the best candidate as he was the only one. He wasn't as good as Sheila, but Severus had worse in both Defence professors and Weasleys so he welcomed the ginger. The sanctuary was finished and they waved painful goodbye to another professor, who flew away on a Chinese Fireball to the great amusement of his ex-students.

His current Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, who wasn't a teacher anymore either, came to him on his knees. It had happened in a dark corner of an even darker bar. They had been drunk and Severus craved some release. The man had been on his knees, his mouth on Severus, sucking his hard cock only through his jeans yet but that was about to change. Then the Headmaster confessed in a drunken haze why he was so irritated. The man told him he was rather good with "defence stuff" and Severus had been suddenly facing a very difficult decision: blow job or defence job? Looking back at it now, the Headmaster knew he had chosen the wrong thing. The first option at least would have given him five minutes of bliss but instead he got three months of constant suffering. He had to substitute more lessons than how much his professor was actually giving. The man was on and off spotted in Knockturn Ally, thankfully not doing anything illegal just frequently visiting bars. As it turned out later on, he wasn't visiting bars, or rather it wasn't the bars he was visiting. It was the clientele and most importantly, their habits. According to the Prophet the man was the best submissive in Knockturn Ally and its close vicinity. The photos about him tied off to a bed with two cocks in his arse and leather straps and whatnots around his own bits and nipples was convincing enough. Severus didn't have a problem with this kind of bedroom behaviour as long as it was in the bedroom not in the Prophet at every Wizarding home.

The man had gotten sacked and Severus took over the position. By the start of the winter holiday, he was in physical pain from lack of sleep, the bags under his eyes so deep, he could probably crawl into them and rest there. He lost weight due to his irregular eating habits, or rather lack of it, given the second he was out of the classroom he started working on the four feet of paperwork that had been gathering on his desk. With a minimum of two hours of sleep a day, he taught heroically day after day, just so he can sign some papers and grade some tests during the evening and spend the rest of the night surviving only on coffee while brewing potions for the infirmary and hoping that he would have a moment to look for a suitable candidate during the upcoming winter holiday or even better, Santa would drop one off just for him.

Santa Clause had come and brought only socks and books with him. No Defence teacher and no more time to look for it, either.

A lethal tiredness came over Severus as he watched the mountains of parchments. No matter how much Draco, Minerva and the rest of the staff had helped him out, he simply wasn't able to be Headmaster and Defence against the Dark Arts teacher at the same time. He rubbed his eyes, drank some coffee and pulled a paper from the top of the stack. The letters swam before his eyes. He frowned, tried to blink away the tiredness but it was in vain. He needed to sleep; he had been running around like a madman in the last thirty-eight hours. He was tired, thirsty, and hungry and needed a massage more than anything.

The bells rung midnight and Severus looked up. He stared towards the dark windows for a moment, not understanding why the Hogwarts bells were chiming.

"It's New Year's Eve, Severus," explained a sad voice over his head. "Don't spend the first moments of the upcoming year working. Go down, celebrate with your friends and colleagues."

Severus sighed deeply. When did this happen? Last time he checked, they still had three days till New Year's. "I'm busy, Albus. Leave me alone."

Suddenly, the fireplace flared up and a drunk blond staggered out of the green flames holding two glasses of authentic and very expensive French champagne.

"Make a wish!" he cried, his voice sluggish from the alcohol.

"Get me a Defence professor," reacted Severus without hesitation. Draco pushed the drink in his hand and clinked their glasses.

"Done," he said then, downing his sparkling wine and stumbling back into the flames. He was gone before Severus could even utter a world.

He put down a glass and looked back at the parchment in front of him. He could read the words now, but he wished he didn't. They were utter rubbish. One of the worst essays he had ever read. He stared at the paper for one more minute, listening to the first seconds of the new year tick by. Then he dropped the quill, pushed away the whole stack of paper and grabbed his champagne.

"To fuck with all this," he grunted, downing his drink. He pushed his chair away from the table, stood up and marched to the door. Grabbing the handle, he looked back. "Happy New Year, Albus."

Twinkling blue eyes looked back at him merrily, "And to you, my dear boy. May it bring you happiness and _rest_."

Severus rolled his eyes and went down to celebrate. He knew he would regret it tomorrow. But tomorrow was a couple more glasses of fine champagne away, so he couldn't care less at the moment.

**o.O.o**

The cheap scotch dried his throat, but hell, it was at least cold. He pressed it against his temple.

"Are you still hung over?" Smirked his godson.

Tomorrow came much more sooner than he would have appreciated it. The tiredness took over him completely and knocked him out. "I'm not hung over," Severus croaked. "I'm still fucking drunk, that's what I am." He was probably both though. His head was pounding so hard he wanted to turn around just to see there really wasn't a dragon behind him knocking its head against his.

"School starts tomorrow," Draco reminded him. He glared at the boy. Malfoy was twenty-five, but as Severus had helped changing his smelly diapers, it was hard to look at him in any other way. Though as if the rumours were true – and they were – Draco had almost as much experience as Severus had with his forty-five years.

"And why would you think I need to be reminded of that?" Bloodshot black eyes gave a searching look to the blond but he didn't waver.

"Because it's six in the evening and you're drinking scotch instead of coffee and you're still wearing your clothes from yesterday. And you... well, excuse me, but you smell," came the answer Severus did not really want to hear. He was, thank you very much, perfectly aware of all this.

"Fuck off, Draco," he grunted.

"Severus, when was the last time you ate?" Draco inquired softly, coming closer to him and taking the glass from his hand. He vanished it with a flash of his wand. "And I mean a proper meal not just a bite or two."

"What day is it?"

"Sunday," came the reply, followed by an eye roll.

Severus nodded. He shouldn't have. His headache just got a million times worse. "Three days ago."

"Go have a shower, eat something, and then go to bed." Draco pulled him up and ushered him towards the secret door that led to the Headmaster's chambers. "And we're sharing the Defence classes from tomorrow. You have the lower years, one and two, I'm taking over the rest."

Severus raised his head and looked into the grey eyes. He felt so grateful he would have kissed Draco, did he not think of the boy as his own blood. "Would you really?" He breathed then promptly hugged his godson.

"Yeah," Draco mumbled. "Just get off me. You're drunk and you smell like..." Severus leant away and Draco sniffed the air around him, "Dungbombs?"

Realizing just then how truly drunk he still was, Severus sniggered. Sallow memories from New Year's came back. A wasted Hagrid, many of those smelly bombs and a furious Filch, and that was all he remembered. But it was enough to make him smile sloppily.

"What's with the attire?" He asked as he looked at Draco, studying him as if only noticing him right now. The boy was wearing fancy robes, nothing he would wear at Hogwarts. "Where are you off to?"

"Buying your bloody birthday gift," came the testy answer.

"You better not give me something cheap this year. You still owe me one for that _Come As You Are*_ business."

Draco had the decorum to at least blush. Couple of months ago, he was almost outed by the Prophet like the other teacher. It was only thanks to Severus and a rather large bag of galleons that the young man still had his job and his well guarded secret which involved gags, whips, iron clips and a lot of leather.

"Oh I'm sure it won't come cheap. I don't even know if it will come _willingly_."

Severus didn't have a single clue what the blond was on about but his headache returned as if someone had just decided to use his head as a boxing bag. He closed his eyes and waved. "See you tomorrow, Draco. Do not be late, and if I am, come check on me. I might have just died."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Come as you are is actually a Canadian shop where you can purchase... well why would I tell, go look it up if you're interested ;)


	2. Chapter One: Sold to the Cute Blond in the Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mini Italian Dictionary: mio bello - my beautiful(male) / signore - sir, mister / energia - energy / sfarzoso - gorgeous / drago - dragon / Mio Dio - My God / spirito - spirit / atmostfera - atmosphere

**Chapter One: Sold to the Cute Blond in the Back**

**o.O.o**

Reporters bustled around him as he got out the black ministry car.

"Mister Potter! Mister Potter!" One of them called, and Harry looked at the woman. She worked for the Prophet and that was the only reason he answered her. He recognized the reporters from Witch Weekly and WQ and many other papers as well, but the Prophet was always the first.

"Yes, Claire?" He smiled brightly at the witch. She was as tall as Harry and had very short blond hair. Though she was older, she was well respected – and envied – among the other journalists. Harry liked her. She was an ambitious woman, but not ruthless or cruel like her predecessor Skeeter had been. She also worked pro bono for some of the charity programs as public relations manager along with Hermione, though she usually helped with organizing.

"How do you feel about tonight, Mr. Potter?" She asked. A violet Quick Quill floated over her, which went well with her attire. "Do you think you will hit a record with the donations?"

"Oh I think we'll do great. There are some amazing wizards and witches up for auction tonight. I myself would give any galleon to spend a night with Celestina and hear her sing just for me."

He scratched the line on his hand that said 'I must not tell lies', because this was a straight out lie. He didn't want to buy anyone, especially not her. He wanted to go home and grab a book and a glass of wine. But that was not going to happen as he was the last wizard to be auctioned. The Grand Prize as they called him recently. Merlin, it was even worse than the "Chosen One" or the "Heir of Slytherin".

"But you can't bet, right?"

"Unfortunately, no." Another lie. It wasn't unfortunate. "But Ron and Hermione are already in there, getting their purses ready. And I also bought some money to spend." Technically, this was a lie too. He didn't have a single galleon on him. He had already transferred the money to Hogwarts' account, but no one needed to know he wanted to take off as soon as possible.

"Which charity program-" she started but Harry smiled and raised a hand to politely stop her.

"You know who I always donate to. I've been doing it in the last seven years."

"Hogwarts," she stated as if everyone around didn't know it yet.

"And some other charity programs, like Lumos**," Harry nodded. "But many other people need our help so I would like to urge everyone to chip in a bit. Every galleon helps," said the young man getting dizzy from the flashes of the cameras.

"How much do you think you will sell for?" Claire asked and some of the reporters laughed around her.

Harry laughed too, awkwardly and scratched his neck. "I honestly don't know. The more the better, I guess. I will be happy if someone even wants to buy me."

"One last question Mr. Potter," smiled the witch, sensing Harry's need to get away from all the people. That was another reason why he liked her; she seemed to have a six sense when it came to the Boy Hero. She knew when to stop. "I heard the auctioned witches and wizard can all decide where they take their dates. Your friend, Miss Weasley, for example, offered to take her winner to the England-Germany Quidditch match which will be held in Berlin next weekend. What are your plans with your winner?"

Harry laughed. "Nothing that extreme, I'm afraid. I thought more of a proper date, you know. Quiet walk in the park, dinner at my place, a nice bottle of wine," Harry let his grin grow teasing then he added with a small wink, "and wherever that leads."

The other reporters started shouting questions, but Claire just nodded as thanks. Harry turned to leave as well, walking up the old manor's stairs. The house belonged to an old woman who liked organizing fancy parties in the name of charity. These kind of things generally disgusted Harry. He didn't understand why did the whole Wizarding World have to know when, why, how much and to whom he was donating money. He preferred handling this, like he had handled his whole life: in peace and quiet.

He wouldn't be here if Claire didn't approach him many months ago, asking him if he were willing to be sold at a New Year's charity gala. She explained that in next May the seventh anniversary of the end of the Second Wizarding War would come and as seven was a magical number, some of these well-known organisations had joined up with the Ministry in hope to give a bit more publicity to this anniversary and therefore collect some more donations.

Harry at first thought this was just an elaborate joke from Ron but it wasn't. Claire was dead serious and she immediately started listing the other names she had already convinced. She began pulling numbers and photos of homeless children and Harry agreed just so he could have her out of the door. But more and more letters came from her and as Harry actually started paying attention to the numbers he started realizing, this might as well be a good idea. And so, he himself started collecting people to join: Ginny, Neville, Luna, George and Kingsley, the minister himself, were only up for auction tonight, because Harry had asked them to.

The auction itself, as he was told, was rather simple. He would have to dress up in some nice robes and stand in front of a room full of people. Then the bidding would begin. The start would be at one thousand galleons and Harry honestly thought, no one would buy him for so much money. He wouldn't, so why would they? He just hoped he wouldn't be left standing there all alone if that happened. After he was bought by a rich wizard or witch, he would be led to talk to them and coordinate the program. Then finally everyone was allowed to go home and he wouldn't be bothered for a few more months again. He couldn't wait for this part of the evening to arrive.

As he walked inside the huge house, five house elves popped up right in front of him. One took his coat, the second offered tea and coffee, the third alcohol, the forth some finger food and the fifth wanted to escort him to his changing room.

Luckily someone saved him from the attention.

"Oi, mate! Finally!" Ron waved at him from the other side of the entrance hall. There was a plate of food in his other hand. "Come on, Ginny's almost ready. You have to see her. She looks like a blue meringue," he laughed.

Harry groaned. Just what on earth would they make him wear?

"She set her dress on fire two times already," Ron grinned wildly. Suddenly, screams came from the room they were heading to and he giggled, " _Three_ times."

They stepped in the elegant, nineteenth century room just in time to see Ginny tear off another layer of frill from her light blue dress while her stylist, an eccentric looking older wizard tore out a fistful of his own hair.

"I-AM-NOT-WEARING-IT!" She cried enunciating each word as if talking to an imbecile. "Look at all this... all this _frill_!" She eyed the clothing disgusted as if it would be at least made out of still bloody animal skin not quality lace. "Oh, hello Harry," she welcomed him with a fleeting smile that he returned.

"Hi Ginny. Having fun?" inquired Harry tensely.

"Oh, plenty," came the sarcastic answer before she gathered the ten layers of soft cloth and marched out of the room, shouting for Hermione while the old, half bald guy ran after her, screaming after someone, too.

"Potter?" asked a girl behind them in a bored voice.

"Yeah," Harry turned around to face the witch who looked at him with the expression that screamed _let me out of here_. She had black hair, long and thick, it almost reached her waist. She wore black all the way, even her blue eyes were lined with it.

She ticked something on the noteclip she was holding, popped her pink gum and turned half way out of the room.

"ETTORE!" She roared in a deep voice which surprised Harry so much he staggered back a few steps. Then she turned back at the Boy Hero and looked him up from bottom to top. She made a noncommittal, "Eh," then was out of the room.

Ron and Harry shared a look, the former mouthing, "What the hell?" Harry shrugged, plopping down on a chair but the next moment he was on his feet again.

"No, no, no! Up! Up you get, _mio bello_!"

A wizard stood next to him tall and lean and just _holy shit_. Eyes deep blue like the ocean, lips lush and full, dark stubble slightly longer over his upper lip, chin and jaw line, but lighter over the rest of his face like a simple five o'clock shadow. His hair was thick and brown and short but waved on his head like tiny snakes. A thin scar ran through the plump lips and Harry wondered whether his reflection had hurt him with a piece of mirror after seeing this amazing beauty and getting jealous.

Harry cleared his throat feeling pathetic that he couldn't do the same with his mind. "Who are you?" He asked the hot devil.

The man looked at him confused for a second then said in an incredibly arousing Italian accent, "Ah my manners, where have I left them?" He laughed. "Your stylist, Signor Potter." He reached out a hand that was soft and large and grasped Harry's firmly. "Ettore Serafini, a pleasure, Signore."

"Oh hello," Harry said breathless.

"And I'm Ron Weasley. And going," said the ginger brightly, clapping Harry on the shoulder and winking suggestively. Then he was out of the door, leaving Harry alone with an Italian God, most certainly.

"Now, Signor Potter, shall we get you undressed?" He smiled, making Harry blush like a school girl.

"Yeah uhm... sure," he mumbled. "What am I going to wear?"

"At first they wanted to go with something casual, but I said, no, no, no. We need... style. And power. And youthful _energia_." While Ettore talked, Harry started removing his clothing until he stood in nothing but his small black, tight briefs. As he folded his shirt and jeans, all of a sudden he realized his stylist had stopped talking. He looked back and turned scarlet like his former House's flag. The Italian God was staring at his arse unashamed and almost drooling.

" _Sfarzoso_ ," Ettore whispered and though Harry had absolutely no idea what it meant, the tone was very familiar. That was the tone he used upon coming across a rather beautiful and rare artefact during his work as curse-breaker.

Before Harry could even start contemplating what to do, Ettore was right behind him, his fingers running on the young man's waist. Harry froze immediately and tried to turn face to face with him, but Ettore just went, "No, no, no, _bello_ , let me have a look," in a completely objective tone and pushed Harry forwards, so he had to lean against the wall.

Harry was torn between emotions. A part of him was outraged that he was manhandled and touched like this but the other part was rather satisfied that a man _like that_ was eyeing him _like this_. He wasn't used to having handsome wizards looking at him as if he'd been the most delicious thing around. Before he could make up his mind though, Hermione showed up in the doorway.

"This isn't what it looks like!" Harry said freaking out.

"Aren't you supposed to dress him _up_?" she asked, looking at Serafini, who looked back at her like a child whose candy was just taken away.

"But, bella, look at him. So... s _farzoso_!"

"I know, he's gorgeous, but we're about to start and Harry is still not dressed! Give him his suit, Ettore, so we can get on with this already!"

"But..." started the man but Hermione cut in.

"No buts. Or butts. That's not what we're paying you for."

" _Bella_ , you are not paying me!" Ettore laughed but turned away from Harry and went in a room. "Charity, remember!" He shouted back over his broad shoulders.

"Just do your job!" Hermione cried after him. She gave an apologetic look to Harry. "Sorry, about him. I should have warned you he might... you know. He's an Italian stylist, he's the absolute best out there. He's a genius when it comes to clothes, but people? He's been married six times. He flirts with everything that moves and he makes me crazy."

"I can understand that," Harry admitted his eyes at the door behind which Ettore disappeared. "He's definitely _something_ ," grinned the young man.

"Don't even think about it, Harry," She groaned laughing.

"Hermione, have you seen that man. He's beautiful, of course I'm thinking about it."

"Oh Harry, we lost you too?" She gave him a pained expression. "You're the fifth, just today."

"C'mon Hermione, you know he's not my type. I love someone a bit more... complicated. But he's still..."

"I think the term you look for is 'eyecandy'." Ettore laughed as he walked back in with a three-piece suit on his arm and two shiny black shoes clapping after him on their own. "And I can guarantee you, Signor Potter, I am many things but not easy to handle. I am like _drago_. Beautiful to look at, but so very dangerous."

"I didn't mean it like that," Harry tried to apologize but Ettore brushed it away.

"And I am not offended," he said with a soft smile. "We do not yet know each other. I hope that will change soon." He had soul crushingly blue eyes, Harry noted to himself. "This will be your attire for tonight, Signore. Silk, charcoal grey pants. Tight to show that booty we all would like to see."

"Ettore!" Hermione cried indignantly, but he ignored her. He showed the pants to Harry then laid them gently on a nearby settee.

"Black belt and shoes, both made of the finest Italian leather with very delicate magic of course. Your shirt, also silk, simple and white. And now to my favourite piece, the vest. A good vest, Signor Potter, kills. And Stephen will make you a killer out there."

"Stephan?" Harry looked at the man bewildered.

"I always name my designs after my lovers," smirked the man. "Tell me, Signore, will there be a Harry there too next to my Stephans and Alphonsos?"

"No, there won't be," Harry moaned starting to comprehend what drove Hermione crazy.

Ettore laughed throatily. "Ahh, such a shame. But look at Stephen now, can you see him?" He asked letting Harry take the vest. "The light grey colour, like his hair and the streaks of green motives, that was his eyes, my _bello_. He was a beautiful man. He will hug your body tightly, just as Stephen did with mine when we made love."

Harry snorted, unsure whether he wanted to get into Stephen or just walk out there stark naked.

"Come, dress now. I want to see you in my creation," Ettore ordered him and Harry reluctantly obeyed but only after Hermione had pressed the silk pants against his chest.

His body had never felt the exquisite sensation of being surrounded by silk. It was very nice, so much better than Harry had expected. The lower part of Stephen sat snugly on his hips and yes, Serafini was right, surrounded him like a lover. It was tight and probably would make a night-long sitting around rather uncomfortable but as long as he was standing it felt as if it was made just for him. Later on, Ettore told him, that it actually was. Hermione had sent him his measurements. He put on the shirt and let Hermione do his tie. Then he donned the vest too.

" _Mio Dio_ , look at you!" Ettore cried.

"You're going to earn a lot of money for us tonight, Harry," beamed Hermione as he held up the grey suit jacket for Harry. He drew his arm through the soft fabric and buttoned it up. He stepped into the shoes that tied themselves and he was almost ready.

Next, Ettore corrected his hair. Instead of trying to make it look straight he messed it up even more.

"Nice, _bello_ ," he remarked standing right in front of Harry, who felt extremely uncomfortable, as the man had a couple of his fingers still on the back of his head. "Now you look like you just had made love with my Stephen."

"I don't want to make love with your Stephen," Harry groaned looking at Hermione who was laughing next to them.

"You already did, Signor Potter," Ettore said and he turned Harry towards the mirror. "And I tell you, I have never seen anything that would make me so..."

"Ettore!" Hermione cried again warningly.

" _Hard_ ," he breathed against Harry's ears as he stood behind him.

Harry looked in the mirror and saw a man there, all grown up, nicely toned body, broad shoulders, and thinner hips. Killer arse. He looked hot and powerful, like someone who wanted to take on the world, not go home to read a book and drink wine alone.

"You know what... I do look good." He said to Ettore in the mirror. The man smiled brightly at him then laughed.

"If Stephen can do that to you, can you imagine, what I could?"

Hermione groaned behind them.

"Nothing, I'm afraid that would make me feel this good," Harry answered and Serafini laughed booming again.

"I like you," he admitted still smiling. Harry noticed that when he was cheerful his accent was even more noticeable. "You have _spirito_ , and you're not easily fooled by handsome man."

"I'm not easily fooled by any men," Harry corrected him. Except one, but _he_ had always been in Harry's blind spot.

"You do not like men?"

Harry was surprised by the blunt question but the guy did just admit that Harry made him hard; they had stepped over the line of delicate courtesy long time ago, probably when he was manhandled against the wall in his boxers. Confessing his sexuality felt as normal as telling his age.

"Oh I do."

"But not me? My heart breaks," the man sighed dramatically, but the twinkling in his eyes told Harry he was being teased.

"I'm afraid not. You are not, what I'm looking for," Harry smiled apologetically.

"Well, Signor Potter, perhaps you do not yet know what you are looking for."

"Oh I know. He's just not coming."

Ettore shook his head and showed Harry an encouraging half smile in the mirror, "Then, Signore, _you_ must make him come."

**o.O.o**

Ginny with her blue meringue dress was sold for the most so far. The highest bid was seven thousand Galleons. After Ginny came Neville with six thousand and five hundred. Harry felt sick just thinking about it. Surely he would just stand there, no one willing to pay for him. He was absolutely certain and suddenly, the tie around his neck was asphyxiating. Good thing Hermione stood next to him, being supportive and all. She kept up the consistent flow of champagne, too.

"And now," cried the lady who lead the auction, "our Grand Prize."

People cheered and Harry was pushed out onto the stage. He didn't see much. Wizards and witches crowded at the first row but thanks to the bright lighting he did not see behind them. He could tell cameras snapped and flashed and that next to him stood all the others who were already bought. Other than that, it was just brightness.

"A nice walk in the heart of London, a homemade three course dinner at his own place where no reporters have ever been..."

Harry sniggered at the lady's announcement. Of course he didn't let any reporters in there; his place was a mess usually.

"...In other words, a date with our national Hero, the Chosen One, member of the Order of Phoenix and the Dark Force Defence League, receiver of the Order of Merlin, First Class: _Harry Potter_."

Harry wasn't expecting and therefore ready to hear the storm of cheers that was issued from the whole of the Ball Room in front of him. People shouted his name and screamed, ecstatic. It almost knocked him over but he had a role to play. He bowed, giving them his brightest smile.

"The bid starts at one thousand Galleon. Who would give-" The lady couldn't even finish, hands were already in the air, witches screamed. Harry felt relieved, people did want to buy him. His smile became even brighter. "Two thousand, do I hear-" yes, she did hear it. People screamed again though not as much. "Amazing, three thousand then, wizards and witches?" Harry could still count three hands in the front row. "Four thousand!" Two hands. "Five thousands golden galleons! Who will go home with Harry Potter?" One hand was still stretching resolutely towards the sky like a spear.

Harry winked towards the arm, though he didn't see the face. The arm shook slightly then reached even higher. Harry laughed.

"Do I hear six thousand over there at the lady in pink?"

She must have heard it correctly because people cheered and clapped somewhere to the right. It seemed there were still many hands up, even though Harry couldn't see them. He squinted and tried to shade his eyes but it didn't help. Instead he turned back to his role.

He shrugged off his jacket and threw into the middle of the crowd. There were screams again and he smiled towards where the voices where the loudest. He rolled up both his sleeves and loosened his tie. According to Ettore, this should give him a playful _atmostfera_ , that witches and surely some wizards too, would love. He pulled out his wand and rolled it between his fingers.

"Seven thousand galleons, witches and wizards, will we break our records, and _yes_ , yes we will, I see a new bidder! Amazing! Eight thousand galleons?"

Harry summoned some red roses and handed it out in the first row, throwing a few further back too.

"Yes, eight thousand, the woman in black right here in the front. Eight thousand and one hundred, do I hear eight thousand and one hundred? Yes the hand is up! Oh what an auction, witches and wizards! Eight thousand and two hundred! Do I hear- Yes, unbelievable! Eight thousand and two hundred in the back! How about eight thousand three hundred?"

"Ten thousand galleons!" Shouted a familiar, drawled voice from the back and everyone gasped collectively. Even Harry, mostly because he recognized the voice immediately and he didn't have the faintest idea why Draco Bloody Malfoy would want to buy him for ten thousand galleons.

"Ten thousand! My, oh my! Ten thousand galleons, witches and wizards! How about ten thousand and one hundred? Ten thousand and one hundred golden coins for a date with Harry Potter!"

 _Dinner_ , and even a short one in that, Harry wanted to shout out now that he knew who the bidder was.

"No? No one? This is your fair warning witches and wizards, ten thousand and one hundred galleons for an amazing date with the Saviour of the Wizarding World, the Chosen One-"

Fucking hell, stop with the titles, Harry wanted to scream, his mind trying to wrap itself around the fact that he was about to be bought by Draco Malfoy.

Little wooden hammer knocked on wood and the lady shouted thrilled, "And Harry Potter is sold on record price, for _ten thousand_ galleons to the cute blond wizard in the back! I would like to ask the winners to head through the double door to your right where you may collect your prizes!"

The Lady kept talking but Harry wasn't listening to her or anyone else. He rushed back, to look for Ron and Hermione and luckily ran right into his best friends.

"Harry, mate you were brilliant!"

"Harry, thank you so much! Lumos will be very grateful!"

"It was Malfoy!" Harry whispered dragging his friends to somewhere less crowded. He pushed through a door just to find himself on an empty service corridor. " _Malfoy_ bought me!"

"What? Does he even have so much gold?" Ron asked frowning.

"Well it seems he has!" Harry groaned. "I don't want to go on a date with him. I thought this was going to be easy. Meet a fan, have a chat and a dinner. But _Malfoy_?"

"Are you sure it was him, Harry?" asked the witch.

"Believe me, Hermione, I know his voice when I hear it."

She grasped his arm, "You still need to go, Harry. They are expecting you. I know it's horrible, but you need to hurry."

"Do you want us to save you out of there?" Ron offered.

Harry took some calming breathes then shook his head. "No... it's just... Malfoy... That's never good. But he did buy me, so I have to go. Ten thousand fucking galleons. Did he sell his soul or what?"

"That wouldn't be worth so much," Ron chuckled.

**o.O.o**

"Potter," came the drawl from behind him. Harry turned around and tried to school his features. "I don't want this in the papers. You were brought anonymously, you hear me."

Harry nodded. He concentrated on the ten thousand galleons the charity programs would receive if he handled this situation well.

"You won't let reporters near you on the date night. You can owl me with the place where we meet, but the date is next Saturday. Six, maybe. Or seven, whatever is better for you."

Harry was close to blurting out, "The best for me would be if you buggered off right now," but then a tiny voice that sounded a lot like Claire said in his mind, "Think about the poor children."

"Seven. I owl you my address. There's a park not far, you can apparate there. We can have the walk and-"

Malfoy's ugly snort stopped him talking. "Yeah sure. Just make sure you'll be there. Oh and he- _I_ like... uhm... chocolate. Anything chocolatey. And scotch. Not whisky. Remember that. Or wine, but make it a good one, he- _I_ don't drink grape juice."

Harry had to swallow down a retort about what kind of juices Malfoy would drink just in a moment if he didn't shut up. "Got it. Chocolate, scotch, good wine. Red or white?"

"Uh. I don't know. Red? Yeah, I think red."

"Okay. Anything else?"

Malfoy looked away for a moment, thinking, then grey eyes were back on Harry. "I think that's all. Oh and Potter, whatever happens that Saturday, remember, I bought you fair and square. I gave a large pile of gold to have dinner with you, you got it? So no matter what, that dinner will be eaten, or I'm taking back my money."

"That is one hell of a romantic way to ask someone on a date, you arse," Harry remarked not able to hold himself back anymore. An old witch gave him a stinky eye but he didn't pay any attention to her.

"Date? I'm not asking you on a _date_!" The blond frowned wildly. "That's just sick, Potter. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He turned around and marched away mumbling madly under his breath. Harry watched the silvery blond head and just stood there in the middle of the fancy, nineteen century room.

Just what on earth was going on here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Lumos is JK Rowling's charity foundation helping children in orphanages.


	3. Chapter Two: The Birthday Gift

**Chapter Two: The Birthday Gift**

**o.O.o**

"SHIT! I'm going to be late! HERMIONE!" Harry shouted from his bedroom as he pushed his head through the sleeve of his shirt. " _Shit_..." He pulled it off and started the process all over again. He quickly put on a green pullover right before Hermione ducked her head in the door.

"How do I look?" Asked the young man with a grin.

The witch gave him a long look. All Hermione saw were the simple, torn blue jeans, the pullover and the black socks on Harry's feet. The red shirt with a lion roaring on it was covered luckily. He knew the girl would disapprove but it made him feel slightly rebellious, even if that sounded stupid.

"You sure, you want to go casual?"

"I'm not dressing up smart for Malfoy," Harry shook his head. They went over this a million times already.

"All I'm saying is, we don't know yet, what's going on. Maybe he just has a favour to ask."

"Hermione," Harry said slowly, pulling on thick, brown boots, "He's Malfoy and he paid ten thousand galleons for this dinner. Whatever he wants, he won't be asking for it. He will be _demanding_ it."

"Oh Harry," sighed the girl, her expression telling Harry she fully agreed with him and more likely thought about this too.

"So, how is my homemade dinner doing?"

"Good," she nodded, collecting herself. "It should be ready by the time you come back."

"What exactly am I cooking for this little shit?"

Hermione chuckled, giving her friend a disapproving look. "Concentrate, Harry, it's not that hard to remember it," chided the girl as this was the third time Harry had asked the menu since she had started cooking it. "A light Tuscan bread salad, then filet mignon with balsamic strawberries served on mashed potatoes."

"That was Angus beef, Hermione, why exactly did I ruin it with strawberry?" Harry inquired frowning as they walked to the kitchen.

"You did it because you love strawberry and because it gives a fancy streak to the otherwise boring steak," Hermione answered cheerfully as she spooned a bit of balsamic strawberry and held it out for Harry.

" _Angus_ steak can never be boring, Hermione," Harry shook his head then licked the strawberry off the cutlery. The taste was different than what he was used to but rather good.

"Malfoy will like it, I think," she remarked, having a taste too.

"What if I don't like it?" Harry laughed.

"Then you pretend you like it, just like you will pretend to like Malfoy for the next couple of hours. Remember, Harry, ten thousand galleons. We need that to build the new wing in the orphanage. It's going to be named after Dumbledore," said the girl excited. "What about dessert?"

"It's all good and under stasis," answered the wizard. "I can put them together in a second after we finished the main course."

Hermione beamed at him. "I'm really glad you went with these. I know it's a special recipe of yours."

Harry sniggered then opened the oven to take out a baking tray full of little round dollops which were covered in green sauce. "Before you think so high of me, let me show you something." He pointed at the glaze on each and every dollop.

"My god, Harry, are those...?"

"Yep," Harry smirked. "I had to make it somehow special just for the little prick."

She laughed, shaking her head resignedly. "I still think you should be nice with him."

"I will," nodded Harry solemnly, "he won't even notice these."

He put the tray back inside the oven under stasis charm and looked around. "You have the keys, don't forget, there's a box on the table for Ron with the desserts. Anything else I should know about?"

"Oh yes, the drinks!" Hermione slapped her forehead. "The wine needs to be kept between 10° and 15°C so don't put it in the fridge, it's under a cooling charm right now. If he asks what type is it, just give him the bottle, but if you're going with that, pour the wine out into the decanter first."

"And that is what exactly?" Harry asked with eyebrows disappearing under his fringe.

"This thing right here," Hermione pointed at a glass bottle that looked like a very eclectic vase. "You let it breath in there for a couple of minutes. There's champagne in the fridge, I saved it from the Gala, so it should be quality. The scotch. Now this thing is nearly as old as you are, single-malt and when I say quality, I mean it."

"How much did this hurt my Gringotts account, Hermione?" asked the young man carefully touching the long bottle and dragging his thumb over the fine paper on the front.

"Very," she answered. "But you'll survive. There's ice in the fridge too, but if he's a fancy drinker, he will want water. Just a tad bit of it. I got you some crystal glasses for it, they are in the cupboard with the rest. You're going to need the bellied ones."

"Wine cooled not cold, pour into vase thingy, champagne cold, scotch with water not ice," Harry repeated dutifully. "Got it. Anything else?"

"Behave yourself. And don't let him rile you up," Smiled the girl gently. "Now go," she hushed him towards the door.

Harry put on his coat and a thick green scarf, Christmas gift from Molly, grabbed his keys and waved goodbye to Hermione. He was about to close the door, when she cried after him.

"Harry, wait! Flowers!"

"Are you mad? I'm not bringing him flowers!" he called back from the threshold.

"Come on," Hermione urged him then drew her wand and summoned a single red rose. "Take it."

"A rose? You're bonkers. Give me a thistle and let's get done with this."

**o.O.o**

Severus stared at his godson as if the boy would be crazy. He probably was, given what he had just asked of him.

"Let me get this straight," his drawl was followed by an elegant gesture of his hand. "You want me to dress up, as in my best robes that is, then go to an unknown park in the middle of Muggle London and wait there for whatever surprise you are about to give me for my birthday."

"Exactly," Draco nodded, sprawled in an armchair. "I would give it to you personally, but... that might not go as expected. This way, you will certainly get what you want."

"You do realize I detest surprises, correct?" Severus asked matter-of-factly.

"You won't detest this one. It's fine, more mature than you would expect, and comes bloody expensive. You like those kind of things, don't you?"

Severus stood up from the settee and walked around slowly in Draco's quarters. It was basically the same as every other teacher's: a sitting room, a bedroom and a bathroom. Maybe this one was a bit darker as it was closer to the Slytherin Common Rooms than the rest, but the blond still preferred this part of the castle.

"How expensive?" Severus asked suddenly, looking at the boy's books. He did not really care but he did not even want to say yes, yet. He needed some more time.

"You don't want to know," was Draco's answer which just made the Headmaster slightly more interested.

"But I do," he insisted.

There was a short break, and Severus heard a heavy glass being lifted, then Draco sipped from his scotch and the crystal knocked back on the mahogany table. "Ten," said the boy then quietly.

"That is not much," Severus rolled his eyes, though Draco could not see it.

"Thousand."

His own glass almost slipped out of from his fingers. He grasped it more firmly as he turned to face his godson. "Ten thousand what?"

"What do you think," flared the young, "that I'm going to pay with filthy muggle money for your gift? Galleon, of course."

"Of course," Severus breathed in deeply. That was a lot of money. More than what he made a whole year.

"It was not just a gift for you, it was also an investment. The sort that could benefit both of us in the next years, if you are clever tonight and go to that park. And that is as much as you get out of me. Now you either go or you don't. I don't care." Draco said, standing up. "But if you do, you better hurry. You're expected there at seven."

Severus knew this was some sort of set up but he was never good at resisting his curiosity. Draco of course was perfectly aware of his weak spot and always used it well against him. He downed his glass and turned around, scotch burning his throat, robes billowing around his body.

"And Severus," Draco called after him. "If you stay there, no matter what you see in that park, I'll get you a Defence professor, even if I have to give up Muggle Studies for it."

Severus left the cryptic young man without a word. He wasn't in the mood for riddles. It was more than enough that he had to spend his birthday night in a cold park instead of his comfortable armchair.

**o.O.o**

Severus apparated to the exact spot Draco had told him about. He stood probably right in the middle of an old park, close to a lamp but just out of its yellow light. He was surrounded by many great, bare trees and the winding pavement under his feet was made out of cobblestone. He was all alone, not even dog walkers or runners showed up as he waited like he was told. A small playground was to his left but only the wind rode the swings in these cold, late evening hours.

Even though he was wearing leather gloves, his hands, among other things, were freezing off. He rubbed them together and blew hot air on them which left his mouth in a streak of white haze. A shame he couldn't do the same with his balls too, as those were freezing off as well. He mulled over visiting one of the bars in Knockturn Alley to receive a birthday gift he actually needed and let another person warm up his iced up bollocks. That might not cost ten thousand galleons but surely it would feel better than standing in an empty park all by himself.

A few minutes later just when he was about to turn on his heels and disappear, he heard footsteps approaching. His fingers flexed around his wand as he watched a dark figure come closer. Somehow the shadowy shape seemed familiar as if he had seen it in a dream, however he knew it was impossible. Whoever it was, they were wearing thick coat, their face just a black spot and there was a chance they were not even what Severus was looking for. Although how would he know what he was looking for, when all he had was a vague "You'll know it, when you see it," from that bloody boy.

The person was just about to step into the light of the lamps still at least thirty feet away from Severus, when he noticed a flash as yellow beam reflected on round glasses. He knew before the person – _he –_ stepped into the light whom to expect. He did not need the pale glow to tell him about the unruly hair that stuck out of the thick skull like a bird nest. He had fantasized about running his fingers through it many times to deduce how it would feel. He did not need the gentle illumination to tell him about the broad shoulders, the long legs, or the narrow hips. He had seen them enough in the newspapers he had secretly purchased just for this occasion. He did not need that blasted light to show him the face he knew by heart. He had seen it enough times in his dream. But the light was ruthless and it showed it to him and his pulse throbbed suddenly twice its normal speed.

What the hell did Draco think when he arranged this? Because it did not even occur to Severus that this was just an accident. It couldn't have been; accidents like this simply did not happen. Was this his birthday gift? Harry Potter, in the flesh? For ten thousand galleons? Fucking Christ, just what was Malfoy thinking? With every thought and question that rushed through his mind, Potter drew even closer on the paved sidewalk. If Severus decided to run now, he would never know what this was about, if he stayed he had to face something buried deeply inside him. Was he strong enough to do that? This was _Potter_ , the constant variable in every situation. The entity that could never be predicted and therefore was dangerous and full of surprises. Two things Severus did not like, united in the one thing he desired.

There was only one lamp between them and Severus inhaled the cold air deeply to calm, or freeze his thundering heart. Then he stepped into the light.

His sudden motion made Potter alarmed and he immediately reached for his wand. A gesture that would have been invisible to anyone except for trained eyes and probably for those who, like Severus, expected the motion. Then the green eyes shifted on his body and Potter's steps halted.

"Fucking hell..." He groaned and Severus couldn't help but agree with him.

"My thoughts exactly," he reacted closing that last couple of feet of distance between them. "I assume you are not here by accident, Mister Potter."

"No," Potter smiled and Severus detected irritation in his voice, which was even more evidence that he was not the only one that was set up. "I'm here to pick up my _date_."

"Which would be Draco Malfoy, am I correct?" When Potter nodded biting into his lower lip, Severus added, "He will not be coming."

"Yeah, I gathered that much," sighed the young man. He looked around, probably hoping to find words to tell off Snape in a not so offending manner. Nothing comprehensive must have come to him because he just cleared his throat and drew five fingers through his hair. "Sorry, I-I just didn't expect you."

Severus didn't want to admit he was fooled by someone twenty years his junior, so he remained quiet.

"You know what," Potter started shaking himself and Severus thought, ' _Here it comes_ '. But goodbye wasn't what Potter said next and his words just proved Severus' earlier philosophy considering this twat being the constant variable in his damned life. "That wasn't a very nice welcome. Let's start this over." With that, Potter held out his right hand expectantly. "Hello Professor Snape."

Severus watched the stretched out hand for a second or so, then slowly pulled off the glove from his right also extending it. Potter's fingers grasped around his palm; they were warm, so much warmer than his own and he never wanted to let go. But then a thought came to his mind about those hands warming other parts of him, such as his balls, because really they were freezing off and he hastily let go. "Good evening, Mister Potter."

Potter was smiling up at him as he sunk his hand back into his pocket. "How about we continue this at my place? You seem like you're not good with cold," suggested the young man.

Severus huffed, that was an understatement. "Lead the way."

The road to Potter's flat was short and quiet. They did not talk while they strode across the small park, only when they arrived to the building right across it, did Potter say, "This is it," and that was all their communication. Severus believed in the notion that silence was gold and that the less was sometimes more but at the moment he had about a million and one questions he just did not know how to start asking them.

Potter lived on the second floor of a muggle building. After he was invited in, Potter took his coat then showed him around. His living room was spacious and most importantly warm. There was a huge fireplace, no doubt connected to the Floo Network, spouting the welcomed heat. In front of it, were an old rug and two big, comfortable looking chairs and a settee. The walls were covered with shelves which were stuffed with books. Three doors opened from here to the guestroom, bedroom and bathroom, Potter told him, and the kitchen was separated with a big archway. The flat looked nice and tidy and nothing Severus would have imagined.

They walked to the kitchen and Severus was surprised to see the table was nicely set. Black, elegant plates, shiny silver cutleries and wine glasses – there was two of everything, except a candle. That stood alone in the middle, its light flickering slightly as Potter moved around. Severus watched the romantic setting slightly astonished.

"Would you like to drink something?" Potter asked and his tone was soft. Perhaps he had seen Severus's confusion. Or maybe he was just as confused as Severus was. "Wine, scotch, champagne?

"What kind of wine?" Severus inquired and Potter handed him the bottle right away. He gave the young man a frowning look but Potter just stood there, leaning against the counter with his hip, arms folded. "A very nice Cabernet," Severus gave it back after giving the paper a fleeting glance.

"Thanks," Potter nodded then turned his back on him. He tapped the top with his wand and the cork slipped out easily. He reached for a decanter and started pouring out the velvety drink.

"That is a Malbec in your hand, Potter. How so, you do not even know the wine you purchased for your _date_." The word slipped out before he could stop himself. Potter's shoulders slumped slightly and Severus was about to get ready for their first argument but then the most unusual sound came to his ears: a deep rumbling laughter issued by Potter himself. He tried to stifle the reaction it set off in his body, but he couldn't help the sudden arousal.

"And I'm busted already, aren't I?" Laughed the young man, leaning with his hands onto the counter but turning his head towards Severus. He grabbed the decanter and motioned for his old teacher to take a seat. After Severus sat down he plopped down too, pouring a good three fingers of wine into both glasses.

The headmaster twirled the almost ink dark liquid in the spotless glass watching as it ran down on the side, then sniffed it lightly. The fact that Potter was already drinking it assured him that the idiot had not a single clue of what he was tasting. Severus on the other hand did, so he first took a small sip and let it roll around his tongue. The Malbec had a slight blackberry flavour and was less acidic then the Merlot or Cabernet he usually purchased. It left behind a tinge of tobacco and something sweeter... "Damsons." He only realized he finished his thought aloud when he noticed the sharp green eyes on him. He took another gulp and let the velvety, dark liquid run down his throat like a caress.

"Damsons?" Potter asked frowning his eyebrows. "There's no plum in this," he said then and for a second Severus thought he was being serious. But then the full lips twitched and Severus had to realize, Potter maybe wasn't as inept as he thought. Just almost.

"The aftertaste," Severus explained and Potter looked thoughtful for a second, tasting his own tongue.

Severus wondered if he could taste the damson or the blackberry on that tongue. He certainly wanted to try. Alcohol probably was not his best choice for tonight.

Potter shrugged and drank once again. Seeing the older man's eyes roll, he smiled as he confessed, "I have no idea about wines. I like them, but I'm no expert. Hermione brought this... this... Malbec, you said? Yes. Well, Malfoy said he doesn't drink grape juice, so I had to buy something quality."

"If you do not mind the inquiry, do you maybe know anything about this ten thousand galleon my godson offhandedly mentioned?" After all, he needed to know what exactly his birthday gift was.

"Well..." Potter let out a soft titter. "That would be me. I mean, my price. That's how much he paid for me."

The air stopped flowing in Severus' pipes and his heartbeat turned suddenly irregular. He had to clear his throat to speak again. "And just what kind of services did Draco purchase that involved yourself as well?" He asked giving Potter an intense look, hoping the young man would comprehend what his sentence had just insinuated.

The other wizard understood he was trying to tell him something without actually asking the question but for a moment, Potter just stared back at him. The he cried, "Oh! No, no, nothing like that!" There was another groin stirring chuckle, then he added, "I was sold at a charity auction last weekend. Malfoy bought me. Well, this evening with me. Walk, drinks, dinner."

"A date, you mean," corrected Severus.

"Well, up until the point I realized the bid was coming from that prick I referred to it as a date too, yes. Since then, this was just an evening I had to get over with. Since I've seen you... well, I'm just confused."

Being rather cross with Draco at the moment, he did not call out the young man upon referring to his godson as a 'prick'. That he was.

"Not that I miss him, but what happened to Malfoy? He's not ill, is he?"

No matter how hard he tried, Potter could not close out the hopeful tone from his voice. That almost made Severus smile. But just almost.

"You shall not be worried, Mister Potter. Draco is perfectly well and probably enjoying a nice dinner at Hogwarts," Severus answered, sipping a bit of his nice wine.

"And yet, I'm sitting here with you, not with him," pointed it out Potter. "Not that I mind the change."

"Well, Mister Potter, I am afraid I am here to collect my birthday gift," professed Severus grudgingly.

"Your what?" Potter looked around as if expecting a box to have appeared in the meanwhile out of nowhere that he was supposed to give away just no one had mentioned it earlier.

"I was told that in that park I could collect my gift. Namely something fine, more mature than I would expect, and comes bloody expensive. Do you maybe have knowledge about anything that fits this description and is waiting to be collected by me?"

There was a slight blush on Potter's cheeks all of a sudden, hardly caused by the glass of wine he had consumed. ' _Well, well, well, isn't that interesting_ ', Severus thought.

Potter meanwhile, sat up a bit more straight. "Well, I don't know. Am I fine and more mature than you expected?"

Severus let his eyes linger on the young man in front of him. Fine was an understatement and the face in front of him had matured in the last five years that was for certain. As for the mind? They had been sitting at a table drinking wine while managing an almost interesting conversation. "Why, Mister Potter, I think you indeed are."

Potter held his arms aside. "In that case, happy birthday. I'm your gift."

Severus' whole body hummed in appreciation to those words. He had only one question left: when could he take this so very nice present home and play with him until they both got sore and tired?

Thankfully, before he could ask, Potter spoke up again with a sneer. "I've always loved to be objectified."

Immediately, Severus was reminded of a sulky teenage boy angry at the whole world. It was an unpleasant kick to the guts and his reaction came a bit harsher than he meant it to be, "Well, you have been bought already, surely being gifted to someone is not such a big jump from there."

"Surely." Potter agreed tersely, then he asked, "Did you _want_ to be gifted with me, or is this just an inside joke between the two of you I can't understand?"

He was tense, Severus could sense it. Potter always lashed out even more when he felt insecure. It was something the two of them resembled in each other. "No need to be worried or offended, it is neither," he assured the young man. The wine was fine and he wouldn't mind another glass so they had to keep talking. Besides, the real reason why Draco had sent him here was still left unspoken. Though Severus preferred it that way, he also had to admit, he was considering asking that certain question. After all, Draco had paid ten thousand galleons for it. And there was no doubt in Severus anymore, why exactly he was given this particularly fine gift.

"Then why?" Meanwhile Potter still couldn't shake the anxiousness off his mind. Quite understandable.

"I am sure you heard about what had happened to my Defence against the Dark Arts professor, yes?" He asked the young who had the cheek to actually laugh.

"The whole Wizarding World did. Who's teaching it now?"

"I am," stated Severus calmly. He expected more laughter or an uproar or snarky comments, but nothing like that came.

Potter nodded, pursing his lush lips and said, "Good for your students not so good for you if what Minerva says is true. You would be having way too much work to do as Headmaster already."

Severus raised an eyebrow and he didn't even try to conceal he was surprised that first of all Potter was conversing with his deputy and secondly that the topic was his workload. He decided to speak the truth. "In fact, I have. That is where Draco and this little... date comes to the picture. I have a theory, which Draco believes to be true. He's trying to help me in his own ways. No matter how delusional these ways may be."

The young man smiled at the remark then poured some more Malbec for both himself and Severus. "What theory?"

"I am sure you have heard of the curse on the job."

"Yes. Ever since Riddle wanted the job and Dumbledore declined him, no one has stayed for more than a year."

"Or even for a year in most cases," Snape added shaking his head, recalling the eight professors in the past eight years. "The curse needs to be broken."

"And you think I can help you with that?"

Severus took a deep breath, and then let it out in a long tired sounding exhale. "I, and a few others, believe that you on the post should break the curse, yes."

"Wait, hold on! You want _me_ to teach at _your_ school?" Potter guffawed. "And Malfoy had to pay thousands of gallons so you can tell this to me? Why didn't you just give me a firecall? Or owl me? You do realize I work as a curse breaker nowadays, right? I mean like officially."

Of course he knew that. He had seen the advertisement in the Prophet many times. Snape stayed quiet for a while, just calmly sipping his wine, enjoying the ink deep coloured, velvety, sensual drink as it took over his senses. He was sure, this was as long as their pleasant conversation would last because his next answer would certainly anger Potter.

He shrugged slightly and looked hard into the emerald eyes. "I do not ask favours from Potters."

Potter was fucking smirking as he answered almost right away, "Well, you will have to. If you want _me,_ you'll have to ask."

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you? Seeing me on my knees, begging for you." Severus sneered.

The blush on Potter's cheeks returned. "I'm not going to lie, it does have an appeal. The same way as I'm sure, you'd love to have me under your hands, wouldn't you? Taking orders without a word, silently obeying like a good little boy?"

Severus was about to take another sip of wine but his hand stopped midair. Potter's tone of voice changed. It was all of a sudden darker. He expected the young to shout, yet Potter didn't lose control. His voice was steady and teasing.

Was that a well disguised attempt at flirting? The very notion sounded so ridiculous, Severus wanted to laugh out, but the fact remained. He placed the glass slowly back on the table and leaned forward. "Are we still talking about the job, Mister Potter?" He asked narrowing his eyes slightly. His voice was like the Malbec, a bit smoky, velvety and extremely dark.

Potter bent back and put his elbow on the back of his chair as he answered as casually as one could, "Of course we are."

Severus let one corner of his lips draw up into a half smirk. "Of course. So, will you take it?"

"Surely you can do a better job than that," Potter grinned confidently, rolling the bottom of his glass on the white tablecloth.

"Surely, you can kiss my arse," Severus sneered not entirely with malicious intent.

The other wizard laughed again, just like his voice this rang out darker too. "I could, yes," he smirked and leaned forward. The glowing light from the little candle between them flickered in the green eyes, making them look even more mischievous. "When I work under you."

Severus watched the handsome young face in front of him and imagined for a second how it would be to see it every day, during every breakfast, lunch, dinner and staff meeting. He imagined how it would be to return to focus solely on his Headmaster duties, to sleep through the nights, to have time to have a cup with Minerva. He imagined the students, eager to impress their young hero. Then he imagined Potter saying no and laughing at him, the green eyes taunting him.

He tried to read Potter's face but all he saw that the emerald pools were darting occasionally down at his lips then back at his eyes, as if Potter wasn't able to keep them there.

Severus drew his pointing finger softly over his lower lip considering his chances. When he saw Potter mirror the motion with his tongue, he decided to acquiesce. "Mister Potter, would you do me the honour and accept being my Defence against the Dark Arts professor for the end of this semester and for the entire next year?"

 _'Mine'_ , Severus thought. _'Not Hogwarts' or the students'. Mine.'_

Potter grinned brightly. "Why, Professor Snape, I would love to. When can I start?" He asked eagerly.

As always, Potter once again did the unexpected. Severus downed the rest of his wine and leaning on the table, stood up. "See you on Monday, Potter."

The smile was gone and the young man's warm hand darted out to touch his, to hold it where it was. "Hold on! And what about your birthday gift?"

It wasn't the first time this evening that Severus was surprised, but this time he did his best to conceal it. "Excuse me?" He drawled.

"I'm your gift, remember?" Potter smiled not yet withdrawing his fingers. Severus remembered all right, the idea enticing enough to keep his lower parts stirring all night. "Draco had bought me and passed me onto you. Yes, he had his motives but he still paid a lot for a dinner with me."

Slowly, Severus sat back and finally Potter took back his hand just to touch his glass. His thumb was stroking the stem of the crystal and Severus did not fail to notice it. "You _want_ to have dinner with me?" He asked carefully.

Nonchalant smile and tensing posture was the young man's reaction. "That's some good wine already opened there," he indicated the decanter, "and I have some nice Angus, fresh from the pan waiting for the stasis to be lifted. It would be a shame to let it go to waste. And besides, we're colleagues now, right?"

"You are mistaken, Potter, I will be your employer. But not yet, we still have to sign some papers. Right now, we are just... two individuals."

"Men," corrected Potter his tone once again darker and lower. "So what do you say?"

"I wouldn't mind more of this wine," Severus accepted. "Consider this your interview, Potter."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Snape," grinned the young man as he stood up. He poured some more wine then excused himself for a moment.


	4. Chapter Three: Business Dinner or Dinner Date

**Chapter Three: Business Dinner or Dinner Date**

**o.O.o**

Severus watched the retreating man, swinging hips, long legs, broad shoulders, lithe body and round, tight arse that screamed to be fucked hard into a bed as someone, _Severus_ , pounded wildly into it. Sipping the expensive wine, he let his mind wonder how it would feel to actually have Potter under his hand. Potter had been wrong, Severus did not want obedience from the young man, but he wanted his usual fierceness. He ran his palm firmly over his thigh, trying to chase away his arousal, and it didn't help that he could see inside the bedroom to where his dinner partner had disappeared to. Potter didn't turn on any lamps; it seemed he could navigate perfectly even in pitch black. His figure was darker than the rest of the room as he stood in front of the window and removed his clothing one by one. Severus swore under his breath and had to grasp into the edge of the table to stop himself from stalking in there and taking his rightful birthday present. A moment later, Potter was coming towards the kitchen, wearing black pants and a wine red button up shirt. The top button was left undone, revealing a silver hem on the inside running around the slim neck. The cuffs were the same light grey colour but Potter rolled those up after he tucked his shirt neatly into the tight pants.

"Going Gryffindor, are we?" He smirked when the young man walked back into the kitchen.

Potter tittered as he said, "I'm going _Antonio_." Standing at the counter, he lifted the tops from two plates and served one of them to Severus with an elegant, small bow, before he plopped back onto his seat. He was still smiling probably because he knew Severus could not hold back the inquiry.

"Antonio?"

"Yes, that's what my shirt's called," his laughter sounded slightly awkward as if even he realized that sounded extremely stupid.

"I am afraid you will need to elaborate on that if you wish me to continue this..." For a second, it occurred to Severus, he should not, but the wine was thick and he hadn't eaten much in these past days and the word slipped out. "...date."

Emerald eyes snapped at him with a familiarly teasing twinkle in them. "I thought this was my interview, not _our_ date."

 _Damn you, Potter_ , Severus thought feeling trapped. "This is a dinner, nothing more, nothing less," Severus tried evasively.

Potter's smirk didn't wane as he forked into his salad. "I met this Italian designer at the auction. He had made the suit I wore that evening. He told me, he named all his creations after his lovers. This was a present he gave me after the event. He said, he was sad that he couldn't have a _Harry,_ so I should at least accept _Antonio_ , as a reminder of what I missed."

Severus pierced the fork too vehemently through a piece of plum tomato and it clinked loudly against the china. The sound rang in his ears along with Potter's words. "Surely you managed to leave such an impression on him that he has enough to fashion a ' _Harry_ '."

"Oh no," Potter said, his tone amused. "He did tell me what he'd usually done with those who then received the honour to give their names to these clothes. Believe me, I couldn't leave an impression like that just by talking to the guy."

"Now I am intrigued," Severus raised an eyebrow. "What does someone have to do to be a muse to such pleasing creation?"

Potter cleared his throat and placed his fork on the side of his plate. He rolled the glass on the table, clearly uncomfortable, which entertained Severus even more. He then took a small sip and smirked at Severus over the rim.

"Are you sure you want to hear the tour to an artist's bedroom, Snape? I didn't know what to expect but now that I know, I wish I didn't."

Severus's gaze darted from one green orb to the other. The candlelight flickered in them or perhaps it was something else. He put down his fork and signed to Potter with his hand to go on. The young man shrugged, his expression telling Severus, ' _You asked for it_ '.

His lush lips said something else. "He wasn't fucking him, he told me. He made _love_ and _art_. He tied Antonio down so tightly he couldn't move a muscle and the restraint left marks on his wrists and ankles, around his neck and thighs. He didn't touch him at first. Just watched him as he lied before him, blindfolded and gagged, his body naked and needy and hard. Shall I go on?" Potter leaned forward.

Severus mirrored the motion, taking a calming breath. "You have my attention." Since when was his voice so husky and low?

"Antonio was special; he wasn't yet broken in when he got him. He fought against him, the same way as I would, he said to me that evening. You see this silver," Potter asked in a velvety voice, pulling the shirt slightly away from his neck, showing more of the light grey rim and his bare skin. He was talking slowly, leisurely. "This was the colour of the silk he used to tie him out at the first time. Lean closer, Snape," he instructed Severus who obeyed. Potter's clear scent filled up his mind while his own pulsing blood cursing through his veins filled up his cock. "You see those tiny black dots? Those were pins that cut into Antonio's skin. They drew blood when he tensed against the restraints. You see how the fabric slightly reflects the light? That was the sweat on Antonio's body as he became more aroused when Ettore stroked his back with the whip. The fabric is made out of the smoothest, rarest silk, would you like to feel it? Let me tell you it is an amazing sensation to feel it touching me." Potter stretched his arm closer to Severus who reached out too and slid the tip of his fingers over Potter's upper arm.

"Yes, it must be," he agreed, hypnotically staring at the maddeningly green eyes that relentlessly held his gaze through the entire monologue.

"Antonio's skin was smooth like this, too; the softest thing Ettore had ever touched," Potter smirked as he tilted his head lightly. "Until he touched mine, he said."

Severus' fingers subconsciously tightened on the firm arm so he withdrew quickly. He leant back, trying to get out of Potter's mesmerizing aura. But of course, that was impossible as the young man went on.

"The whip came down on Antonio's back twelve times," Potter's fingers ran down on the front of his body, indicating the eight buttons. Other four must have been the ones on the cuffs. "And by the end he was screaming in pleasure. There are two hidden buttons on the underside of the collar, too" he showed Severus the mentioned accessories. "He told me he used the lash twice on Antonio's front, too. But that was their secret, the pain Antonio loved the most, that's why it's hidden. The collar and the cuffs are enforced to make it hard, like Antonio was back then."

Severus had to drink a heavy gulp of wine because his mouth was dry as the desert, however it did not help. He suspected he needed Potter's cock in his mouth to wet it again. He knew if he looked away from Potter first he would lose this game, whatever game this was, so he stared into the emerald pools, barely blinking. It was excruciating to watch Potter this keenly, while under the table his cock was becoming harder with every piece of new information about Antonio. It wasn't the details that turned him on so much, unlike Draco and his former Defence professor, he wasn't into anything like this. It was _Potter_. Those words, formed by Potter's full lips, his eyes looking at him intensely, his scent invading his mind, his tone filling his ears.

"The whip tore into Antonio's skin, drawing his blood. That gave the colour of the shirt. And you see how tightly it fits around me?" Potter straightened himself and slid his palms over both his sides. It did stretch on him enticingly like a second skin, the buttons almost about to snap. Severus nodded wordless and the young man continued his unhurried description. "That's how tight Antonio was around Ettore. And finally, the colour of the buttons."

Potter bent forward again to give Severus an opportunity to take a closer look at said buttons. They were a rather deep pink, with tiny streaks of white in them, like the lines in marble stone.

"Let me guess," Severus drawled aiming for a careless tone, though it still came out huskier and deeper than usual. "Antonio's spunk covered cock?"

Potter's laugh was sensually deep and his eyes closed for a moment, then the emerald gaze was back on Severus. "That was my guess, too, and we almost got it. But no. Ettore told me he pulled out just before he came. This colour here," Potter flicked one of the buttons with his fingernail, "it's his semen mixed with Antonio's blood."

The young man leant back, sipping his ink dark Malbec, apparently finished with the tale.

"Remarkable story, Potter. Surely you do not expect me to believe it?" Severus asked sneering. No matter what his mind believed, his cock was already convinced.

"Oh you don't believe me?" Potter asked in a challenging tone, but smiling relaxed now. The teasing, dark tone was gone from his voice, it was all of a sudden light and friendly. "Feel free to check the next WQ, it's coming out next month, I think. The Auction will be their cover story and I'm sure this made it into the report." He grabbed his fork again and started eating his salad, which still lay forgotten in front of them. "You see, I didn't have the pleasure to hear this from Ettore intimate like this. No, I heard this story in a Ball Room full of reporters and guests, people I didn't know, have never meet and probably will never see again. I met even Ettore just that day and suddenly I'm listening to this story about his bedroom habits. Up until that point, I didn't even know a _whip_ was considered a toy in some circles. How can someone even enjoy that?"

"You should ask Draco," Severus advised.

"What?" Potter snorted and Severus started eating again too.

"Oops," he said between small bites of bread and tomato, not feeling apologetic in the slightest. "I probably should not have told you that. But then again, he probably should not have organized this behind my back. And you heard me correctly. If you are interested in this sort of activities, you may ask Draco or Roger, your latest predecessor in the Defence job. They both seemed to have an in-depth knowledge of the topic."

"Yeah, no, thanks. I think I already know more than I should," groaned the young man, pushing his plate away, waiting for Severus to finish as well. When he did, Potter took the plates, vanished the leftovers and slipped them into the sink. He served the main course then poured out the last of the Malbec.

Severus watched him as he sat back then remarked quietly, "And just to think you specifically _changed_ into that shirt to have dinner with me... What message does that convey, do you think?" smiled the headmaster smugly.

Potter cut into his steak, the knife running through the juicy meat easily. "Hah! Don't get the wrong picture here, Snape. I wouldn't dress up for a prick like Malfoy, but you're an entirely different matter. And I'm wearing this shirt because all the others are in the laundry. What you see now, this isn't me. Usually there's a mess here, artefacts lying all around and I don't cook."

"Speaking of which, what exactly am I having?" Severus asked poking a strawberry with his fork. "And who is the chef I should thank it for?"

"You just had a Tuscan bread salad and now you're eating a filet mignon with balsamic strawberry and mashed potatoes. And of course it's Hermione's merit. And before you say anything, I promised a home cooked dinner but I never said who would cook it at home."

"Give my appreciation to Miss Granger. This is remarkably good."

"Just wait 'til you have the dessert," smirked Potter.

They finished the main course whilst having a polite chat about life at Hogwarts and as a curse breaker. Severus let the young man in on what life was like while having a curse on one of the school positions and Potter had told him, that as he worked alone it would not be a problem for him to change jobs, though he might disappear for some of the weekends as he was still expected to be an active member of the charity events planned for the first half of the year. They went through all the people they both knew, updating each other's information on them, and Severus told Potter even about the previous Defence professor. The young man asked a few questions about the job and the curriculum and they agreed to meet the next day to talk it though and sign the papers. Soon the steak was gone and so was the last of the Malbec.

"Can you handle a bit more alcohol?" Potter asked standing up. He handed the glasses and the scotch to Snape to open it, while he prepared the dessert. "Do you need ice or water?"

"Potter this is wizard-made scotch," Severus groaned holding the precious bottle in his hands, caressing it softly. "It has been mellowed for twenty-one years in a barrel made out of the wood of a whomping willow. This drink is like rough sex, you do not dilute this with gentleness to take off the edge. You drink it to _enjoy_ the edge."

"Understood, sir," Potter grinned over his shoulder as Severus poured some into the big bellied glasses. Crossing his leg on his knee, he turned towards Potter who was busy with their dessert. Severus hoped he managed to keep his arm in a way that prevented Potter from seeing his hard on when he turned around to take one of the glasses.

"To rough sex," Potter grinned, clinking his glass to Severus'.

"To rough sex," Severus repeated, watching the taut arse in front of him as Potter returned to the sweets. "Did Miss Granger have to depart hastily?" Severus wondered loudly.

"No," came the answer in a light tone. "The desert is all me."

The smoky, burning scotch went down the wrong pipe but still kicked Severus in the guts like the heavy branch of a whomping willow. He coughed a couple of times, not risking a glance at Potter who surely was grinning smugly over him.

"I meant to say," arrived the apologetic voice when Severus' throat finally didn't feel like someone just jammed a flaming torch down there, "I made it all. It's my specialty. Malfoy said he... well... _you_ like something chocolatey, so I made my favourite." As he talked, he turned around and came closer to their table, carrying a plate. After he put it down in the middle, he sat down again.

Severus watched the six small tower like sweets, trying to figure out why they were so special. Each tower consisted of three dollops dipped in three differently coloured glaze. A pale lilac on the bottom, then sallow green in the middle and finally red. They looked like doughnuts in three different shapes put on top of each other and crowned with a single piece of cocoa bean. Severus hoped that was not all the chocolate Potter talked about.

"What is this?" he asked primly.

"Courtesan au Chocolat*," Potter answered beaming proudly at his creations.

Once again, the young man managed to prove that anything related to him was _never_ what Severus had expected.

"My French may be slightly rusty, Potter," Severus reacted calmly. "Are you actually serving me chocolate whores?"

"Courtesans, Snape," Potter said with respect towards the cakes. "There's a difference."

"Oh what a delight," Severus chuckled darkly. "I must confess no one has ever given me a courtesan for my birthday."

Severus watched Potter take one of the towers, not being sure how one ate a courtesan. The young man flicked off the chocolate bean then lifted the top dollop and turning it upside down, squished it slightly between his thumb and pointing finger. He licked off the leaking chocolate filling, before he said, "Except Malfoy."

Dark gaze shifted from wet, chocolate covered lip to green eyes. Severus needed all his strength to remain seated and calm. "I hope you are not referring to yourself now."

"Some of them were respected women who provided their company, valuable insights, and help to their king, for which they received political or financial support," Potter replied lightly.

"And they slept with their king," Severus purred in a low voice.

"Sometimes they did," Potter agreed, then added. "Why don't you try them?"

"Courtesans or the cake?"

If the young man had said the first, he probably would have fucked Potter on the kitchen counter, smearing the chocolate filling over his body before licking it off.

But Potter just motioned at the cakes with his fingers without a word. Severus took off the chocolate bean and raised the top ball to his lips. Followed by Potter's avid gaze, he gave an experimental lick to the glaze, then slowly sunk his teeth into the dollop. Potter cleared his throat and leaned back.

Severus wanted to moan. If the scotch was rough sex, the Courtesan au Chocolat was lovemaking. It was sweet and soft, the filling, like custard, melted on his tongue and ensnared his senses.

"Compliments to the chef, Mister Potter. This is quite enticing."

"Now you know why they are my favourite," smiled Potter, taking another delicious ball.

Severus looked at the sweet, something suddenly catching his eyes. There was a remarkably familiar decoration on the glaze, which he would not have noticed if the top dollop remains in place and they used cutlery to eat. But they used fingers, which could be licked to further agonize the other and as Severus licked his own, he spotted the motive.

"Mister Potter, did you draw cocks on these?"

"Shit, of course you had to notice," Potter laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry. Really sorry. They were after all meant for Malfoy," he reasoned with a twitch of his shoulders.

"That is remarkably childish, Potter." Severus could not help it anymore, he laughed slightly too.

The rest of the evening was spent with another series of polite and meaningless conversations. Potter's clock signed midnight and Severus grudgingly stood up from the table to say goodbye to this extraordinary evening. Potter prepared him a box of the leftover Courtesans and made him promise that he would give some to Malfoy, then he escorted Severus to the fireplace.

"Snape, when was your birthday?" Potter asked as they stood in the middle of the living room.

"Today. Well, given it is already past midnight, it would be more accurate to say it was yesterday."

"Sorry I'm late then," he smiled before he added, "Happy Birthday," and the green eyes closed and Potter kissed his cheek. Not just pressed his lips against his skin, actually kissed him, Severus could feel the soft lips move against him. He almost grabbed the idiot to push his tongue inside that cheeky mouth and show Potter how one properly ate chocolate courtesans but then the young man withdrew.

"I forgot something," Potter smiled suddenly and rushed back to the front door to take something out of this coat. In the meanwhile, Severus threw a fistful of Floo Powder into the fire, desperate to be as far away from here as possible. Potter returned when the green flames burst up and held out a single rose.

"I wanted to go with a thistle," he said with a grin. "But Hermione insisted."

"Thistle would have been more useful," Severus took the flower, letting three of his fingers run gently over Potter's hand and knuckles. "It is one of the main ingredients of a hangover potion, which I will most certainly be needing tomorrow." He explained and held out his right hand as he said in a low voice, "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Potter,"

"The pleasure was all mine," Potter smiled back. He didn't let go of his hand while he asked, "So tell me, Snape, was this a business dinner or a dinner date?"

Moving one step closer to Potter, Severus let his voice drop and octave and turn seductive. "If this had been a dinner date, I would not be walking _out_ of your flat but _into_ your bedroom now, wouldn't I?"

Potter leaned even closer to him and his arousing, fresh scent invaded Severus' sensitive nose. "I can't wait to work with you," groaned Potter in a very low whisper.

"And I cannot wait to get rid of you," answered Snape, twirling around and disappearing in a burst of flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Courtesan au Chocolat is a cake featured in Wes Anderson' film Grand Budapest Hotel. It looks really delicious :3


	5. Chapter Four: For the Orphans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini Italian-English dictionary: magnifico - magnificent / mio bello - my beautiful (male) / diletto - darling,dear / magia - magic /

**Chapter Four: For the Orphans**

**o.O.o**

Teaching at Hogwarts was better than Harry had expected, even though his expectations were high enough already. Being back in his old school – _home_ – felt amazing. Just walking into the huge castle had lifted his soul, not to mention meeting all his previous teachers, who were now his colleagues. Professor McGonagall became Minerva, little Professor Flitwick was all of a sudden Filius and there was of course Pomona and Poppy, and many others too. Hagrid remained just Hagrid but, seeing him was still great as now he could spend afternoons with his first friend, just like back in the old days. Malfoy was there too, but they didn't really pay much attention to each other, which was much better than what was going on during their school years. And of course, there was his employer.

Snape remained Snape or even worse become Headmaster Snape, despite their business dinner/dinner date. Harry had still become excited just by thinking about that evening. The things he had said while Snape had his intense ink black eyes on his, bloody hell... How he managed to get through that evening without slipping under the table and licking something more delicious than some chocolate courtesan was beyond him. Yet here in the school, Snape was the poster boy – man – for professionalism. They hadn't even had a private conversation since Harry started teaching, not that Harry would have looked him up in his office. With the dinners and teas with Hagrid, the occasional cup with Minerva and the many essays and tests and preparing for all his lessons, he didn't really have time to hunt headmasters.

But it was all worth it. He _loved_ teaching. It was Dumbledore's Army all over again, except this time, everything was taken much more seriously and he had to prepare the lecture well ahead, but the students, they were still amazing. They seemed to like Harry a lot; he liked to think almost as much as he had liked Remus' lessons. He tried his best to make the classes interesting and entertaining, and the kids active. There was a lot of foolish wand waving and silly incantations, Snape would have probably detested, but there were readings and essays and oh yeah, detentions too. Not a lot, thankfully. His students realized after the first week that despite his own Hogwarts history, he did take order in the classroom seriously.

And _finally_ , he could roam around the whole castle freely. No one told him to return to his room, he didn't have to wear his Invisibility Cloak, he didn't have to use the Marauders Map to hide when Minerva suddenly came around the corner.

Or in this case, Headmaster Severus Snape, himself.

"Potter! What the hell are you doing out of bed this late?" Asked the man as they ran into each other on a dark corner sometime after one. Harry had been patrolling or more like, picking up his Gryffindors and sending them back to bed with a bit of point loss, before Filch would do the same just with more venom, spit and promises of horrid, bloody detentions.

Harry's cheeky grin made the man frown. "You do realize I can be out of bed this late now, right?" He asked the Headmaster.

Snape seemed intimidated for only a second than the expression was overtaken by a sneer.

"Just because you are now allowed to, it does not mean you should," Snape said.

Harry considered the words and they were more than accurate though, he thought, not regarding his midnight strolls, rather his astray contemplation on his employer and his certain body parts. "How true," he agreed. "Then I guess I should have just let those kids wander around."

Even in the dark, he could see the small tug in the corner of Snape's lips. "How many did you catch?" Asked the man casually.

"Three. Two Gryffindors, then later on a Hufflepuff," Harry answered dutifully.

"Detention or just points?"

"Nothing from the Hufflepuff, she was sleepwalking. The other two got points taken from them, but no detention."

"Do not go easy on them just because they are in your former House. I expect you to treat all the children the same."

Harry's smile was sarcastic, just like his tone as he said, "Because you had treated them all with the same kindness and understanding, right, Headmaster Snape? And besides, one of them had his head in the other's lap; it was punishment enough that I walked in on them."

"Oh really? You should have given detention even more, Potter. Do not be such a soft hearted professor, these children need a strong hand," advised Snape, in a friendly manner. Surprisingly, he wasn't lecturing Harry.

"Since when are the kids so... depraved, anyway?" groaned Harry as he started walking towards the seventh floor, hoping that Snape would follow without any questions. "Back when I was a kid-"

"They did the same, I assure you," Snape said grimly. "All those messed up hormones, morning woods... this school is always full of horny teenagers. Do not tell me you never..."

"What with Basilisks, and Death Eaters and Acromantulas after me every year? Didn't really have the time," blushed Harry. Why exactly where they talking about this? He kept strolling on the corridors. Snape must have thought he did so without any aim in mind, but Harry had the destination clear in his head. Ever since he had returned he had wondered if the Room of Requirement was still there or just an empty, burnt out hole in the ancient walls. He also wondered if Snape knew about it. He hoped not – he wanted to impress the Headmaster.

"Come now Potter, are you telling me _you_ , of all people, have never done anything depraved in these corridors?" The headmaster asked his voice almost cheerful. There was certainly glee in it. Snape was gloating at his lack of _depravity_ , of all things.

"What, you did?" Harry snapped back.

"Certainly. I had gotten more blow jobs here, than out of the castle in the next couple of years, that one is for sure." Snape's cool answer left him hot and bothered. He really didn't need to know that. Not after their dinner. Not after he had held his own cock, while recalling Snape's intense gaze on him. And definitely not after he had cried Snape's name, as in bloody _first_ name, when he shot hot, sticky come on his fingers.

Harry started roaming the corridor in front of the entrance of the Come and Go Room, desperately not thinking about beds, lubes or other equipment.

"Why are we here, Potter?" Snape asked suspiciously squinting at the door that formed behind Harry's back.

"So you know where we are?" Harry asked back as he pushed the door open. Luckily, there were no beds, or anything in the sexual nature. As he tried to empty his head while thinking of a place, the room was rather empty as well. It turned into a round area, with a hole in the wall opposite the door. The hole opened into the crispy night air with a rather large balcony, bordered with iron railing. The moon looking only like a very thin 'C' on the dark sky did its best to shine through the heavy clouds but the darkness seemed to have won this fight already. Harry could barely see the Grounds and he didn't even try to make out the mountains far away. Even Snape was hard to find as the man fit right in their surroundings.

"Of course I know of this place," Snape said in a low voice, all of a sudden right behind Harry. The young man could feel the other's presence on his heels as they walked closer to the handrail. "The Room of Requirement. Who do you think had kept the Carrows off this place, all through that time your dear friends had been hiding in here?"

Harry turned around swiftly and Snape bumped into him. "You did?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter, even an imbecile like Umbridge found a way in here and the Carrows were armed with Dark Magic," explained the man stepping to the side and walking past Harry. His hand ghosted across Harry's abdomen, as if the headmaster needed to feel where Harry ended and the rest of the world started.

Harry, heart filled with gratefulness, watched as Snape leant with his elbows onto the thick iron. They were high enough; the constantly blowing cold wind swept gently across his shoulder length hair and caressed the raven curls like a lover. Snape gazed at his kingdom over his beak like nose, the tall and lean watchmen of the school. His cloak like a waterfall of ink cascaded down on his body and pooled around him, just a puddle of sheer darkness. Even the moon peaked out from behind the clouds to see this man, but its brightness was not nearly enough to bring light to the dark man, Harry admired.

Eyes strictly on the Grounds, he joined the headmaster on the balcony.

"Thank you," said Harry quietly.

"I was merely doing my job, Potter," Snape reacted coldly, his voice only as loud as the wind around them. "I did not do it to earn your gratitude. Or an Order of Merlin, for that matter."

"You still did. Along with my respect."

Slowly, Snape turned towards him. "Hold on a second, this is you, actually respecting me? I honestly did not notice the difference."

Harry snapped his eyes at the man and was surprised to see a teasing half smile on the corner of the thin lips. He rolled his eyes. "You really haven't notice we're not arguing anymore?" Instead there were these easily misunderstood little implications, which could hint at anything and nothing at the same time. Still, they were certainly better than the snarled fights and actually quite entertaining as well.

"Ah," Snape sighed, "I knew I have been missing something very dear to my heart."

A soft chuckle escaped Harry then he turned his eyes back over the world lying down below them. They remained quiet for a while; it was peaceful – something Harry was not yet used to feeling around Severus Snape.

"A certain Claire Goodman owled me today," a dark voice cut into the silence. "She would like us to be involved in some charity events."

"Oh yes," Harry nodded, "I told her to approach you, hope you don't mind."

"Actually, I do," Snape sniffed, his black eyes turning towards the Forest.

Harry by now knew very well that mix of sadness and shame that Claire's first correspondents usually invoked in people. "The pictures of orphan, homeless kids?"

"Yes," said Snape, after a second of silence. "And the statistics, too. However," he took a deep breath, then turned bodily towards Harry as he went on, "she rather unfairly pointed out that we are one of those organizations who are benefiting from the events, and well... she was quite persuasive."

"She usually is," laughed Harry. "So what's the plan? I'm not selling myself again, am I?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. He turned towards Snape as well, leaving one of his elbows on the railing.

"Why, Professor Potter, did the last time go so badly?"

And here it was again, the banter, innuendoes that might not even be innuendoes. Yet the voice that said them was dark and arousing and velvety, like thick melted chocolate. Harry bathed in the sensations that voice gave him.

"No, it was rather fun actually. But who knows who ends up buying me this time? I might be unlucky and end up with someone who wants more than a dinner."

"I was under the impression you did not have a problem with being a courtesan," Snape said softly, moving closer.

Harry didn't take his eyes off the man as he answered, "As long as I serve _my_ king, I don't indeed."

"Your friend, Ettore Serafini is coming," informed him Snape suddenly. His voice turned cold by the mention of the Italian God, he had not yet met.

"Really? You think it's a good idea to bring him to our kids?" Harry smiled, imagining Ettore giving another lecture about how he got the idea for one of his creations.

" _Our_ kids, Potter?" Snape laughed darkly.

"Well, being gay and all, I'm fairly certain this is as close as I get to having kids."

Snape considered him for a moment before he said, "There are many options nowadays. And we need him. There will be a photo shoot. A calendar of the heroes of Hogwarts or single photos up for sale, maybe both – they haven't decided yet. Should come out around Valentine's Day, she said. Ettore provides the style, we provide the heroes."

"Sounds fun," was all Harry could say as Snape was somehow too close all of a sudden.

"I am relieved you find it to be _fun_ ," The headmaster smiled evilly. "Hopefully I can trust you taking care of Ettore while he resides in our midst then, correct?" He pushed himself away from the railing and Harry suddenly realized he had been trapped. He liked Ettore, liked him a lot, but being around the man resulted with too much offers of the erotic kind and no action what so ever, which infuriated Harry on many levels but mostly on a very basic, very animalistic and very sexual level.

As Snape headed away from him, he asked back with a hint of challenge in his voice, "Well depends, really. What exactly do you mean by taking care of him?"

He heard the sound of rushing footsteps and the next moment Snape was pressed against him from behind, his hands grabbing onto the railing on both Harry's sides. The young man's breathing hitched as he felt hot air ghosting over his skin and silky hair caressing his face. Then the velvety deep voice attacked his senses again, nothing more just a dangerous growl against his ear. "If you as much as touch our guest, I make sure you learn what exactly it means to be the king's courtesan."

Harry tried his best to slow his breathing but it still came out in short gasps. "I'm more afraid of _him_ touching me. If you recall, he's the more dominant between the two of us."

Snape moved even closer, grounding the young man into the railing. "Potter, let me tell you, he is not the only one with a domineering personality in this school. This is after all, _my_ school and you are _my_ professor, and I will make him understands that as well."

"Well," Harry breathed as his hardening cock was all but squashed against an iron hippogriff. "That's good to know."

And then, as if nothing had happened, Snape was on the other side of the room, probably already at the door. Harry couldn't risk turning around and checking it himself. He couldn't bear the thought that Snape might see just how hard this little chat had made him.

"And, Potter," said the low, seductive voice, "with us having all these children, one might wonder just how many times had I been inside you."

Gaping, Harry turned around, momentarily forgetting about his situation. Snape had a hand on the handle already and he was half way out. He blessed the darkness between them.

He narrowed his eyes and tried to see the exact expression on the headmaster's face, but darkness wasn't just a blessing, it was a curse as well. "One might have a fairly hard time then, might he not?"

"One certainly does."

**o.O.o**

It took Ettore about half an hour to charm everyone after he had arrived on a rainy Friday afternoon during the first week into February.

They planned the photo shoot for Saturday, which was a Hogsmeade day, and so fewer students would be around anyway. Snape thought it was enough that their routine was disrupted by having a guest, they didn't need the children lurking around the Great Hall as the man dressed the professors in whoever knows what.

Upon arriving, the designer's first steps led to the headmaster's office where Harry had been waiting for him to 'take care of him'. Minerva was present as well, sitting on Snape's right as usual. Harry suspected Snape planned a formal introduction, something to perhaps intimidate the Italian, so that he would realize whose kingdom had he stepped into. But of course, Ettore Serafini wasn't someone who gave even a chance to be intimated. Ettore was the kind of person who rather liked doing the intimidating himself.

He opened the door to Claire and let her step inside the round office first. As Claire introduced herself to Minerva and greeted Snape with a soft smile, Ettore turned to Harry.

" _Bello_ , my heart flutters as I lay eyes on your beauty again," said the lush lips and blue eyes twinkled dangerously. Harry was once again blown by the utter gorgeousness of the man, his voice and naturally, his _accent_. The Italian smiled and licked his lips. "What a pleasure to see you again," Ettore said with an affectionate smile and the next moment fingers, soft as silk, grabbed Harry's neck and he was pulled into a kiss.

Ettore tasted sweet and fruity. Cherry and vanilla and maybe a hint of strawberry. His lips were soft, it reminded Harry of the few kisses he had shared with Ginny in his sixth year. There was no tongue involved at first but the kiss was still more than enough to make Harry feel aroused. Then just before Ettore pulled away, wet tongue traced his lower lip and Harry needed all his resolution not to moan.

The next moment the Italian was in front of Minerva. She received a kiss on the hand she had held out and the lines on her face soften slightly as the deep blue eyes looked up at her while full lips touched the back of her hand. Ettore turned around the wrinkly hand in his and kissed into the middle of Minerva's palm, whispering words no one could hear except her. Not that Harry paid any attention to that scene, he was preoccupied with someone else in the room.

As Ettore stepped away from him, Harry's eyes found the headmaster right away. Snape was furious. He was leaning onto his desk with both palms, eyes burning. He could almost see the black aura around the professor as he stared at Harry, his expression suddenly unguarded and revealing more than Harry had ever seen.

'What passion', Harry thought to himself, before Claire's pretty face swam into his vision, soft smile, lips moving, saying something that was utterly lost on Harry.

He shook himself and hugged the woman while Ettore turned to the headmaster. Harry let go swiftly and stepped next to the Italian, though Snape meanwhile managed to take back control.

Serafini looked over the dark man in front of him like one generally looks at meat on the market. The ocean blue eyes were filled with desire as he stretched a hand.

"And you must be, _Professore_ Severus Snape," he said slowly in a low tone, almost in awe. He hissed the 's' sounds like a snake, his accent suddenly heavier. "What a pleasure to finally meet you. Ettore Serafini, Signore, at your service. Whatever you need, I can give it to you."

"I highly doubt, Mr Serafini." Snape answered with a smile that rather resembled a sneer.

"You would be surprised," came the teasing reply. "And we are among friends, are we not? Please call me Ettore."

Friends? Harry was surprised Ettore was still alive, given the headmaster's previous fury.

Snape motioned towards the empty chairs, "Shall we?" He waited until his guest seated themselves then he too sat down with Minerva on his right and Harry on his left. "So Claire, what is your proposal?"

"We decided to do both. Calendar and the single photos as well. We want something cheeky, something elegant and something playful. That's what Ettore is here to provide. Who are the participants?"

"Filius Flitwick, Sybill Trelawney, Rolanda Hooch, Bathsheda Babbling, Horace Slughorn, Aurora Sinistra, Pomona Sprout, Rubeus Hagrid, Firenze, Minerva McGonagall, Draco Malfoy, and Harry Potter," Snape listed the names. Harry noticed with certain disappointment that the headmaster wasn't on the list.

"I will need to see these wonderful people personally before the shooting so I can choose their outfits properly, Severus." Ettore said calmly and Harry frowned when he used the headmaster's first name. The first name he wasn't allowed to use. The first name Harry groaned in the middle of the night, when he was alone with a hand around his cock and fingers up his arse.

"Can be arranged," Snape nodded. "I will call a staff meeting for tonight," he motioned to Minerva, who stood and strolled out of the office with long steps and without a single word. Harry marvelled the efficiency between two of his colleges. They had been working together for so many years that they didn't need words to understand each other. Which was probably what made this school so efficient.

Ettore looked after her with admiration. "I know exactly what she will wear. It will be _magnifico_."

"Professor Snape, I was thinking, would it be a problem if Miss Granger joined us tomorrow," Claire inquired. "She's a great help with organizing, and her insights would be valuable considering the printing or the theme. And these professors, as I know, had taught her in the past, right?"

"Hermione's coming?" Harry smiled, looking expectantly at Snape, who rolled his eyes but nodded.

"She might as well join us. So you plan the release date on Valentine's Day, correct?"

"Oh yes," Claire smiled. "Ettore has, once again, something special planned for Mr Potter, and we believe, there are some lonely witches and wizard who would be happy to buy that calendar."

"Something special?" Asked Harry and Snape at the same time both looking at Ettore.

"Oh indeed, _mio_ _bello_. Your naked body will provide entertainment for many men on Valentine's Day."

"My- _what_?" Harry groaned, blushing madly. Hot, tickling sensation spread in his chest spilling lower and lower. It felt like he had just dumped a cup of warm coffee on his lap. It certainly didn't help that Snape was sitting next to him, rather tensed all of a sudden.

Snape pointed a finger on Claire as he sneered, "I did not agree to anything in the erotic nature. This is a respected school, Claire, you simply cannot go around and publish naked photos of _my_ professor, no matter how well it would sell. At least not as long as he works for me and I intend to keep Potter around."

"Severus," Ettore started calmingly. "Have you seen Harry in any of my creations?"

"As it happens, yes." Snape answered after a second of hesitation.

"Which one? Was it Stephen?"

"No," Snape said, shifting in his chair. Harry, too, felt suddenly uncomfortable remembering their dinner date/business dinner. " _Antonio_."

The blue eyes snapped at Harry who felt his blush return and if possible, deepen even. "You wore _mio Antonio_ on your body, when you met _him_?" His voice was pleasantly surprised, lush lips turning upside for an arousing smile. He looked at Snape contemplating him for a while who seemed taken aback by the intense attention. "Well, I did say you should make him come, didn't I?" He sighed softly, as twinkling pools of ocean blue eyes turned back on Harry.

" _What_?" Harry cried again. "I didn't..."

"Severus, _diletto_ , tell me, did you like seeing Harry in _mio Antonio_ ," asked the Italian.

Harry watched the desk resolutely. Even when he noticed from the corner of his eyes that Snape looked at him for a moment, he didn't turn his head towards the headmaster. Not even, when Snape said softly. "It suited him well."

"This is a... what is the word... ah! Understatement. Severus, let me tell you a bit about designing magical clothes." His brilliant smile didn't waver as he leaned on the table, blue eyes persistently remaining on black ones. "Every piece of clothing we wizards and witches design, has the potential to bring the best out of the wearer. Much like with wands that you use to channel your _magia_ , a shirt, a vest can help channel your true personality. Antonio's role was to seduce and on Harry, he would do it perfectly. Believe me Severus, I do not do this to make everyone see Harry the way I have seen him," Ettore turned towards Harry, who was suddenly forced to remember the way strong hands pushed him against the wall, soft, long fingers traced his waist. "That is secret I would prefer to keep. Close to my heart. Or other parts, really."

Harry let out a soft groan, trying to signal Ettore that he wasn't helping his own case, but the Italian was watching Snape again.

"He would not be completely naked of course. We need to earn that right, don't we, Severus? The sight of him uncovered, fully revealed, laid out in front of us. What I want is to show the potential in him. I will make every straight woman and gay man long after Harry. His look will be a promise. A promise for playful pleasure that wizards and witches will want to take and keep."

Harry's mouth was slightly hanging open. He didn't want that, did he? For people to long for him? The fact that Ettore was constantly bombarding him with unveiled offers was bothersome enough. It was harder and harder to say no to the Italian God, with his perfect hair and gorgeous eyes and lips that begged to be kissed and would look remarkable around his cock.

No he most definitely didn't want all the British wizards and witches admiring him. But. There was one wizard he would make a promise for playful pleasure. Or any pleasure in fact.

"I'm in," Harry smiled at Ettore not bothered by the angry frown Snape gave him instantly. "It's all for charity after all, isn't it? C'mon, Professor Snape, Ettore did great the last time he had to choose my outfit. I trust him to give me something that would help to raise a lot of galleons again," Harry smiled.

"We will see tomorrow," said Snape strictly, eyes on the Italian. "This _is_ a school and he _is_ a professor here. If I find the outfit too decadent, you will find another one."

Ettore smirked as he said. "You will find it decadent, Severus. And you will love it. As you will love the rest I will show you."

Snape stood up and so did the others. The meeting was over. Claire was at the door, plotting expression on her pretty face, her lips curving. Ettore was still smiling warmly at Severus.

"Do not forget, Ettore, that you still need to convince me that I want this," said Snape.

The Italian tilted his head and watched the dark Headmaster wordlessly for a moment. "Oh I will convince you, Severus. I will make you want it. I will make you... _crave_ it, as bad as I do."

Harry realized the offer probably sooner than Snape because he expected it. He knew Ettore wouldn't be able to talk to Severus Snape and not see the enticing darkness in the man. The dangerous potential. The dominance. This wasn't about him or the outfit anymore. This was about Ettore and Snape. As he walked to Claire at the door, waiting for the Italian to come too, he saw as Serafini held out a hand over the table.

His thought was confirmed when Snape accepted the hand and Ettore spoke up again.

"There comes a moment in our life, Severus, when we want something, but to get it we must bow our head. If you had seen _mio Antonio_ , you know his story. And if you know his story, you know I do not bend my head," Ettore turned their joined hands and Harry was astonished that Snape didn't pull it away as the Italian slowly raised it to his mouth. "Severus, I like you. You are something else, something... very _intrigante_. I do not let anyone else control me and my design choices. But I will bow my head this time. In fact," lush, no doubt wet lips descended on Snape's hand and Harry could notice the rush of desire in Snape because he reacted to Ettore the same way. "I will bend my whole body for you."

Ettore grazed the fingers with his lips before he let go, Harry would even swear he had seen a tip of tongue dart out to give a small lick to the very top of that long middle finger. He turned around, his silk robes flying after him like wings. "If you do not like what I give to Harry, if you _truly_ not approve, then I let you decide. But if you do, I get to choose something for you as well and the calendar will be _dodici piú uno_."

"What's that?" Harry asked Claire.

"Twelve plus one," she answered grinning.


	6. Chapter Five: Servant of People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini Italian-English dictionary: intrigante - intriguing / Mio Dio - My God / eleganza - elegance / stile - style / magnifico - magnificent / Mi dispiace - I'm sorry / vedo - I see /

**Chapter Five: Servant of People**

**o.O.o**

Severus had to admit, Ettore Serafini _was_ something else. The Italian was the most gorgeous man he had ever seen and definitely the most beautiful who had offered himself to Severus. Even though Ettore was very confident about flirting with basically anyone who moved, he showed a remarkable interest in Severus during their " _get-to-know-my-subjects_ " meeting that evening. The attention left Severus bothered regardless his best efforts.

He was barely able to control himself, his promise to Potter about showing who was in charge was long forgotten, as the designer's interest wondered from professor to professor, but always returned to Severus. Even if cock-sure people generally assaulted Severus' nerves, Serafini... was something else. His self-assurance was not artificial, the man knew what he wanted and also knew how to get it, what to say, how to approach someone. And that confidence was rather alluring to Severus. A man who liked to be in control, who was powerful and yet willing to submit to Severus' will, was rather enticing by start, being beautiful _and_ witty did not help Severus to shake off the attraction.

It was fascinating to watch the Italian charm his Charms professor, make Minerva giggle like a school girl and have the usually stoic Rolanda blush by the well-aimed compliments. He HE even befriended Hagrid with tales of the exotic creatures he encountered in his home country. Whatever he had told his subject, everyone left the impromptu party smiling warmly at Serafini and thanking him for what, Severus could not fathom. There was no sign of irritated eye rolling, or shared glances that said "Moron." Ettore was as welcomed in their midst as Harry Potter.

The only thing that kept Severus in control of his emotions and body were Potter's dark glances from across the room. Potter seemed restless all evening, though Severus was only glad to see that Ettore had left alone his Defence against the Dark Arts professor. Even though they didn't speak, Severus did not miss the looks they gave each other. Potter's friendly, encouraging smiles were nothing compared to the hunger in the Italian's ocean blue orbs. In these moments, he wanted to drag Potter out and remind him what it meant to serve a king. And then, he was forced to remember he was the one who had asked Potter to make sure the Italian was welcomed. For which he damned himself during the whole evening.

Ettore said goodbye to Pomona with a soft kiss on her plump cheeks and the witch exited the staff room with a warm smile on her lips, leaving only four of them in there. Potter was manually collecting some dirty plates, Draco was quietly sipping his scotch, just like he did all evening, while Severus was leaning against one of the walls, observing the scene that was about to enfold.

Ettore stepped behind Potter and slid a hand around his waist. " _Bello_ , you seem tense..." said the Italian softly, pulling Potter to his chest as if he would be his cuddle-bear.

Severus' blood was boiling. Potter looked over his shoulder but it was not Ettore his gaze was searching for. He looked into Severus' eyes as he answered, "I'm just tired."

"Sit now then," Ettore smiled, taking Harry's hand in his and tugging the young professor towards one of the chairs. He pulled out a wand, long and slim, olive wood by the look of it. He flicked the wand and the dirty plates and glasses vanished, while the room organised itself.

Potter sat, but Ettore stayed behind him, hands on his shoulders, gently caressing him at first. Green eyes closed involuntarily in pleasure, as the stroking turned into firm rubbing. Draco shifted in his seat, downing the amber liquid from his glass.

Potter seemed to relax but his tension crept into Severus' muscles instead. He moved, crossed the room with only a few long strides and settled in one of the armchairs right in front of Potter. The carpeted floor swallowed the noise; Potter could not hear him, which explained the surprise in the emerald eyes, when they fluttered opened.

"Thank you, Ettore," smiled the DADA professor.

Grinning smugly, Ettore drew his hands down over Harry's chest and leaned to his ear. "Anytime, _mio bello_. You know I would love to help with any stiffness you might feel."

Draco snorted and sank deeper in his armchair, throwing a leg over the arm, drinking from his glass that was magically refilled once again.

Severus looked away from Potter, hating that little blush that coloured the young man's cheeks.

"Ah, you English people..." Ettore sighed, plopping down in one of the chairs too. A glass half full of red wine zoomed into his open hand. He took a sip, savouring the taste for a second before swallowing. "How are you so unyielding all the time? The world lies before your feet and you only look away."

When none of them responded, Ettore shook his head and switched to different topic. "Your colleagues, Severus, are all remarkable people. It will be an honour to dress them tomorrow."

"Indeed," reacted Severus, not able to disregard the direct accosting.

"Ah, _Mio Dio_ , Severus, I beg of you, tell me, what have I done to deserve such coldness all of a sudden?"

"You did not do anything, Ettore," Severus said softly recalling his good manners. "I must be tired, as well."

"Why do we not retire then, _mio diletto_?"Asked Ettore with a sudden gleam in his blue eyes, standing up. Three pair of eyes went wide. "Come now, Severus, let me make you relaxed."

"Ah, I think..."

"No, no, no, Severus, do not think." Ettore smirked circling Severus. "Just feel," he said, stroking Severus' arm with soft fingers.

Damn, he was good, the headmaster thought. He kept his eyes strictly on Potter, whose gaze was now cold as ice. Whatever the young man was thinking of, couldn't have been pretty.

"Look at this, Harry," Ettore whispered now, but the silence was so deep, everyone heard him perfectly. He lifted Severus' jaw, his fingertips sliding on the long neck, "Is it not beautiful? Who would not want to play with this?" He caressed Severus chest but as if sensing that Severus was about to jerk away he moved aside, looking hungrily down at Snape. "Who would not want him?"

"I don't," said Draco easily, his grey eyes only narrow slits as he watched Serafini.

"Your name... _Drago_... is it?"

"Dra _c_ o Malfoy," corrected the blond, holding up a hand. "A pleasure."

"You are different from them," Ettore said taking the hand. He ran his thumb over the knuckles. "You are no professor. You miss their... rigidity."

"I've been teaching for seven years now. I am more a professor than Potter." Draco did not seem offended that his hand was held captive. If anything, he seemed smug that the attention was finally on him.

"Oh, Signor Potter is no _professore_. Nor are you. Not yet. You are too young. Experience and knowledge, the Italians say those are what a _professore_ needs to pass on. You are so young... how could you have both?"

Draco tugged back his hand. He was offended now, Severus recognised.

"You Italians didn't fight a war seven years ago."

"And you did?" inquired Ettore. His tone was still respectful, not cutting, though his questions were to rile Draco, for some reason.

"Right at the front," remarked Malfoy quietly.

"Yet, you have been punished," came the answer from the Italian.

Grey eyes widened. "If you know who I am, why are you asking these stupid questions?" Draco sneered.

"Questions are not stupid, _Drago_. Only answers may show you unintelligence." Serafini smiled. "And I do not know you. I am learning you now. I am reading you. Do you want to know what I have learned so far?"

"Humour me," said his godson evenly, seemingly uninterested.

The Italian made another round around Draco. Blue eyes shifted eagerly on the lean, pale figure, drinking in his white blond hair, sharp feature, grey eyes, and then Serafini moved back to his chair and sat down. His gaze was intense on Draco as he talked. "You were born into riches. You have known a comfortable life as a child and that is what you aim towards now. You dress carelessly, yet you have _eleganza_ and _stile_. That is my _Selim_ on you, I recognise him. You said you fought in the war and you hide your left arm. You are branded, same as our Severus here. You fought on the wrong side. _His_ side. You crave power. But power does not suit you. Unlike Severus, you do not know what to do with it. To rule is to fight constantly. No, you enjoy a comfortable life. You like being taken care of. Oh sweet, sweet Draco, that is _magnifico_ ," Ettore's smile turned wicked for only a moment, while Draco just frowned. "So much have been taken from you, you do not dare reach out and take anymore. You stay here in comfort and teach and dream. You dream of flying. _He_ tamed the _drago_ , did he not?"

"I'm _not_ tamed," snarled Draco. The carelessness was gone from his posture. He was sitting rigidly, while Serafini became more and more comfortable.

Ettore just laughed as if that had been the reaction he was hoping for, "Oh no, you are indeed not. Then why, I wonder, you stay here, hidden in a castle? The _drago_ should fly. Why do you not fly? What keeps you chained in the castle?"

Severus must have missed something because he was observing Ettore, who seemed to have realized something all of a sudden. "Is it family perhaps? Not your father surely, he must despise your current work. Once you served power and now you represent the voice of the powerless. Motherly love is beautiful, but not something that would keep a _drago_ from flying. No, no, no. You already serve someone. Loyally. Someone here. Someone powerful and... Oh... oh..."

Suddenly, the blue eyes turned onto Severus. " _Mi dispiace_ ," Ettore said respectfully, bowing his head lightly. "I am sorry. I did not intend to take what is already taken. Have I known..."

"You and Malfoy?" Potter cried in disbelief, evidently following Serafini's thinking, too. "But..."

"No," Severus said quickly, eyes only on Potter. He seemed relieved for a moment then doubt crept back into the corner of the green orbs. "He is my godson. Nothing more."

"So it is family, after all. Not a lover."

"No," Draco laughed. "Merlin, no."

Serafini stood and walked to the blond. He lifted Draco's chin as he asked in a dark tone. "Are you taken, beautiful _Drago_?"

"No," was the answer again.

"Good," Serafini reacted coolly, then let go of Draco's head and resumed his circling around the young man. "A _drago_ who stays in the castle, where he cannot fly. Why is that? Oh, _vedo_! He is not a prisoner, so why would the _drago_ stay in the castle?" He smiled at Potter cryptically, who regarded him for a moment, then the emerald pools were on Severus.

"He protects the king," Potter smirked, "or in this case, the _prince_."

"It all comes down to you, Severus," said the Italian now in front of him. "All three of us, it seems, are here for you."

"That is not true, Ettore," Severus reacted feeling uncomfortable. "You are here because of Claire, Potter's only here because he wants to break a curse, and Draco is here, because he was ordered."

"The punishment was for five years," quipped Potter.

"The punishment?" Ettore echoed, confused.

"After the war, I had to teach Muggle Studies for five years to learn humbleness and obedience," Draco explained. "Little did they know, I'm actually pretty good at both already."

"Careful there, _mio Drago_ ," warned him Ettore, his tone thick with his arousing accent. "I might want to ride you regardless of your alliance."

Draco considered him for a moment, then shrugged barely visibly. "It's been a while since I've been taken out for a ride..."

"Hey, before anyone goes out riding," Potter chipped in again, "I still don't get something." He waved a hand towards Severus before he said, "I've known him long enough to know, Snape's not the kind of person, who needs protection from anyone."

"Except himself," Answered Draco. Severus glared at him, but the blond just shrugged. "Severus wants to take all the problems of the world on his shoulders. Someone needs to lift that weight off before it crushes him."

"And you have been doing that, have you?" Severus sneered.

"Didn't I grant your New Year's wish, Severus?" Draco snapped back.

"You could have just taken the position yourself two years ago, if you wanted to protect me so much, Draco. You never wanted to leave your current post."

Draco huffed, but Potter spoke first, "The DADA post is _cursed_ ," there was suddenly a hint of respect in his voice as he spoke to Severus though he was looking at Draco. "If he takes it, he's fired the next year, or worse, as we know. Not much of a help that is."

"Oh now, do not tell me-"

"I did stay partly because of you," Draco cut in. " _Partly_. I might be a dragon ready to fly but I'm also a snake. Your snake, Severus," his godson smirked. "I recognise it when something might be to my advantage and this school has been so far. Protection, comfort and influence. What else would a Malfoy want?"

"Not just beautiful, cunning too," Ettore said, licking his lush lips. " _Drago_ , I want you more and more."

Draco was smirking as he stood and walked closer to Ettore. "Look at them, Ettore. You say, I'm the chained dragon, yet I'm the only one here getting exactly what I want."

"Someone who truly understands submission knows that to submit is not a weakness. It is the greatest strength. Will you show me your strength, _mio_ _Drago_?" Ettore laid his hands on Draco's hips, pulling the young man close to him. His blue eyes were on fire, his whole body burned with desire.

"Strength, body... anything you want." Draco groaned but before he could crash his lips to Ettore's Potter spoke.

"And that's my cue to leave," the Defence professor laughed awkwardly. Severus stood too, but before they could leave the room, Ettore grabbed Potter's arm.

"Stay here, Harry."

"What?!" Harry asked at the exact same time as Snape grunted it next to him.

"Both of you. Sit and stay." Came the order.

 _Holy shit_ , Harry thought inside. This was not happening. "I... no... I can't..."

"Yes, you can and yes, you will."

"I really don't want to see what you're doing to Malfoy."

"Do not see Draco then. See me, only me, _mio bello_." The blue eyes were almost hypnotising and Harry felt suddenly weak. What harm was in watching, right?

He didn't just think that, did he? "No, Ettore... I..."

"You are stepping out of line, Ettore," Snape snarled coldly.

"You're welcome to stay as well," Smirked the Italian. "I do not ask more of you just to watch. To see, what I have to offer to both of you. What I do to Draco, is what I crave to do to Harry as well. And what I desire of you to make me do, Severus."

"How can you be okay with this?" Harry asked from Draco who was already stripping.

The blond snorted. "You have no idea how it feels, do you, Potter? You're too... _innocent_." He said the last word as if it would be an insult.

"I'm not innocent," Harry objected vehemently.

"You are in this, _bello_ ," Ettore laughed. "Which is why I want to show you. It is frightening at first, I know that, but the pleasure is so much more, you might reconsider. I want to be your first. I want to be the one to take your innocence. You will not regret it, I promise. Sit now, Harry." He commanded softly.

Harry's body obeyed with his mind not having as much as a word in it. He staggered back blindly and when the back of his legs bumped against the chair, he sat down.

He wasn't staying, was he? He wasn't even considering it, right? He couldn't, it wasn't proper. But who would know? Surely neither Ettore nor Malfoy would go around telling this to newspapers or anyone. Snape then? No way, he would never risk his Defence teacher, or the school's reputation. It was late enough, way past midnight, students wouldn't come. Did he really want to say yes?

Merlin, he did. He didn't even need to look down on his lap to know that. Just the thought that he was asked to observe two other people being intimate was arousing enough, the fact that one of them was Ettore Serafini, was just a bonus.

Malfoy got undressed meanwhile. He was completely naked, though Harry didn't look directly at him. He wondered only for a second if the other young professor wanted this truly, but then as Malfoy slowly turned, Harry could see from the corner of his eyes that the evidence of his willingness was already hard between his legs.

This was the most depraved thing Harry had ever considered to do. He wanted to look at Snape, to know what he was thinking. The Headmaster was still standing as if waiting for him, but Harry couldn't bear himself to look at him, or stand too and walk out. He was curious, way too curious and if his childhood at this school had showed anything, it was that he could never resist his curiosity. He gulped heavily, took a deep breath, and leaned back. He was smirking confidently by the time he looked back at Ettore.

Snape moved that moment as if someone had pushed him forwards. He stepped towards the door but Harry grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down onto the chair next to him. "Yeah, don't you even think about leaving. I'm not doing this alone."

"Yes, you will, because I am not staying," Snape snarled wildly, attempting to get up, but Harry pressed him back down once again.

"Yes, you will," Harry said determined, his eyes hard on Snape. "You will, because Ettore asked you nicely, because he is your guest and because, you seem to forget what you promised me." Merlin, Snape was furious, but Harry wouldn't leave it at that. "This is after all, _your_ school and I am _your_ professor... am I not?" Snape's previous words coming from Harry's mouth finally did it, it seemed. Snape huffed once more, something dark gleaming in his black eyes but then he looked away.

Snape watched Ettore sternly for a second, and then his gaze turned to Malfoy who stood silently, with his fingers folded on his nape, staring into nothingness in front of himself. "Do it. But do not get your hopes up, Ettore. I have spent years in the company of men who preferred to treat their lovers as you do. I heard the story of your _Antonio_. None of that did the trick. I doubt there is something you can show me that I have not seen before. Unlike Potter, I am no innocent."

"Severus, _diletto_ ," said the Italian quietly, leaning on the armrests on Snape's chair with both his hands. The headmaster had to tilt back his head slightly to keep the eye contact. "Those were tales of dominance, of course they did not do the trick. What I offer you now, is a tale of _submission_." Before Snape could even resist, though Harry suspected he hardly wanted to, Ettore kissed him softly.

Harry remembered how good those lips felt on his and for a moment, he hated Ettore. Then he realized it was Snape he should be jealous of. "I thought you were using Draco to show me your ways." Harry muttered looking away from the kiss, trying to swallow back the weird, icy sensation in his belly.

Snape pulled away and glared at the Italian who was so hard to resist. Ettore just smiled at both of them and turned to Draco. " _Sfarzoso_ ," he muttered, caressing Malfoy's bare body. "True submission does not require chains or whips, Severus. You do not need to make me bleed to show that you own me. You can show it with every touch." Draco moaned when Ettore licked his nipple, his fingers drawing invisibly on his skin. "With every lick. With every kiss. What you have seen, I believe, was about power. What I am about to show you, is about... pleasure."

He kneeled in front of Malfoy, his mouth only inches from the blonde's cock. This time, Harry couldn't _not_ look. Malfoy was stone hard already, leaking, yet nothing else showed his arousal. He was panting slightly, but was otherwise motionless and in full control of his body. Harry knew he would want to reach out and grab into that waving brown hair, bury his fingers into those curls and drew that lush, scarred lips closer.

"I told you, to submit is to show strength. Harry, do you think Draco is weak?"

Harry thought that, yes, he was, but he didn't want to say it. He just shrugged. Malfoy's lips almost pulled into the smirk, but he quickly regained his control and forced himself to only stare ahead.

"You think it is easy to give up power?" All the previous kindness and playfulness was gone from Ettore's voice. It was dark and dangerous, just a growl and Harry knew this was the person now who would whip a man until he bled. "You cannot even give it up, when you are forced, is that not true? You are immune to the Imperio, are you not?"

"Yeah," Harry answered.

"You think it is easy to trust someone with your whole body. To be powerless to stop them were they to use your trust against you?" He touched his wand to Draco's leg as he whispered, "Petrificus Totalus."

Barely visible shimmering light ran over Malfoy's body from head to toe. Harry hated this spell, he hated it more than anything. The sensation of being trapped in his own body, unable to move even one muscle, to do anything at all and yet be conscious was terrifying.

"Do you think Draco is weak?" Ettore asked again, ocean blue eyes on Harry, lush lips on Malfoy's cock.

Harry shook his head and was surprised to realize, Snape wasn't watching the display but him. A sudden rush of pure arousal burned though his body as his eyes connected with the ink black orbs. Depthless darkness watched him keenly, the stern face expressionless, yet something dark lurked there too.

"You do not like hurting people, Severus," Ettore said then, and Snape turned to the Italian when he heard his name. "How about pleasure? Do you like causing pleasure? Do you like it when someone lies in front of you, exposed and awaiting your lips to explore his body?"

The small nod was the only sign that Snape had heard the question. Satisfied, Ettore went on. "Would you not like to cause pleasure to the other's body? Would you not like to make him scream? To be the only person, to do this to him?" He pushed a wet finger inside Malfoy but Harry suspected it wasn't the blond the conversation was about. Was it Ettore? Was it someone else? Harry didn't know but Snape did, because he nodded again, just a tiny jerk of his head. "You have to take care of him, Severus. He trusts you to give him what he wants. Anything and everything. His pleasure is your pleasure. And you make sure he enjoys every second of it and that it last long. Do you not, Severus?"

Another nod but this time it seemed almost forced. And Harry realized Snape was trying hard to control himself. What he would do if that control were lost, Harry was eager to find out. His eyes roamed between Ettore, handsome face, lush lips closed tightly around a long, thick erection, cheeks hollow from sucking hard, eyes bright and gleaming blue and Snape, face hidden behind raven hair, emotions locked tightly away, black eyes, endless and dark, not just in colour but in intensity as well. Snape looked at him. Harry almost moved, almost grabbed him, and claimed him, made him _his_. Ettore was forgotten once again, just like when he had been telling Antonio's tale. Damn, it was only Snape. Always Snape. He was doomed, Harry knew; this would not end well.

He only realized the spell had been lifted from Malfoy when he heard the rapid breathing and the deep moans.

"What is a good king, Severus, if not a servant of his people?" Ettore asked, stroking the blond with his hand. "Dominance is not about the whips. It is about the other one's needs. If it is pain, you are to give pain. If it is only pleasure, you are to give solely pleasure. Is that so bad, Severus? Would it be so bad to give me pleasure? I would not be ungrateful."

Snape didn't nod this time. He just stared silently at the Italian. Did he not want Ettore, Harry wondered. Impossible.

"Leave us now," commanded Ettore. Not even a hint of the previous playfulness was in his tone again, he was pure dominance as he stood. "What sweet, sweet _Drago_ is about to receive, will not be to your liking. Show me the way to your quarters, Draco." He walked into the blaze naked, carrying his clothes after he threw a fistful of Floo Powder into the flames that turned instantly green. Ettore followed him, but looked back at them one last time before he would vanish too.

With that, Harry and Severus stood too and left the staff room as well; Harry all but ran away. Another pair of footsteps echoed behind him, they moved in the same rhythm as his. When they reached the corridor where he would need to turn left, while Snape would go up the staircase, he hesitated for only a moment. Then he looked back.

Obsidian gaze bore into him and scourged even the depth of his soul. If he would ever submit to someone, it would be to those endless black eyes and not anyone else.

He turned around and walked back to his room. This needed to stop. He couldn't think like this. Not about Snape. He was Harry's employer for Merlin's sake.


	7. Chapter Six: Dodici Piú Uno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini Italian - English Dictionary: mio bello - my beautiful(male) / appassionato - passionate / magnifico - magnificent

**Chapter Six: _Dodici Piú Uno_**

**o.O.o**

The next day came ruthlessly bright. The sky was clear and blue like Ettore's eyes, but that wasn't the only thing that cleared during the night. Harry's mind seemed to have calmed down and regarded the last evening as only a hazy dream caused by one too many glasses of scotch. He still wasn't exactly sure what this thing was between him and Snape if there was even a thing and not only his libido was playing games with him, but he knew he needed to come clean with Ettore. The Italian might be a god, but he certainly wasn't Harry's god. Right?

The Great Hall was full with happily chattering children grabbing breakfast before they would head down to Hogsmead. Harry wished for a moment that he could go with them, but then a certain Italian sauntered into the Hall with Minerva on his arm. Harry looked around, his gaze searching for Malfoy and found the blond head three seats to his left. He was explaining something to Aurora. When he looked up and his grey eyes found the newcomers, only a slight frown indicated he recognized his lover. Then he was back to explaining and Harry's attention returned to his eggs, as well.

Minerva took her seat on Snape's right as always, while Ettore, Harry panicked slightly when he realized, sat down on the only available seat left: on Harry's left.

"Good morning, _mio bello_ ," greeted him the Italian with a bright smile. "I would kiss you just to taste the coffee off your lips, but I assume Severus would resent me for it."

"What about Draco?" Harry nodded towards the blond head. "Why don't you taste the coffee off _his_ lips?"

"I already did," Ettore smirked. "And I tasted many other things as well, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't..." Harry grunted. "So he's not bothered by this?"

"By what, _bello_? That I want to kiss you? No sane gay man would be bothered by that. They would enjoy the view."

"Not all..." Harry muttered thinking of Snape. "Are you two... together then?"

"No," said Ettore suddenly all too quiet.

"Why? You... seem to fit."

"We were together an hour ago, and I will certainly be inside him once more before the sun goes down. Our encounters were... oh _bello_... _appassionato_. He was gorgeous, _magnifico_. Tied up, writhing, screaming. I am hard just thinking about him. We most definitely fit. But I am returning to Italy tonight."

"Oh, sorry to hear that," Harry quipped, not sure what else to say. Then a hand was on the inner side of his thigh, little finger touching his crotch, rubbing his cock through his jeans and he wasn't sure he had ever been able to talk in the first place.

"Are you sorry enough to spend the afternoon with me, Harry?" Ettore asked. His tone sounded casual, but his eyes burnt as he looked to the side.

"No," Harry groaned, his previous strength now shattered. There was something he had wanted to say to Ettore when he had woken up, but what on earth was it? Surely not just _no_ , there was something else, there must have been.

The fingers didn't leave him. "Are you sure, Harry? You would like it. I am sure you would."

"No..." Harry groaned quietly. He wasn't sure about anything anymore. "I mean... yes... Merlin..."

Even through the rush of arousal, he felt embarrassed because his body was reacting to the touch, and Ettore was perfectly aware of it. He looked into the blue eyes pleading, aware that his excitement might also be reflected on his features. His gaze caught something over Ettore's shoulder.

Black eyes burned with pure contempt.

Snape pushed himself away from the table and Harry pushed away the hand. "No, Ettore... we... I can't... I'm sorry."

Ettore nodded with a small smile curving his lips. "Do not think for a moment, that I am giving up on you, Harry Potter."

Harry' eyes were on Snape though, following the black figure as he marched out of the Hall, leaving only scared children as he passed. "Shit..." Harry murmured.

**o.O.o**

Hermione arrived around noon, but Harry hadn't seen much of her during the afternoon as she was busy setting everything up, from background to photographers and clothes. Ettore wasn't much around either, he was mostly busy somewhere in the back with last moment corrections on the dresses.

Minerva was the first to be dressed because she was needed elsewhere during the afternoon. Ettore didn't lie when he said she would look magnificent. She indeed did in a dark green, Victorian dress. She posed looking stern and unyielding, like a true Scottish dame. Her eyes were strict and Harry had a distant feeling she would be on the cover of a cold month. Even her last hairbreadth screamed that if you messed with Hogwarts, you would mess with her.

Most of the other, elder professors were dressed similarly, though there were of course some who stood out. Slughorn was sitting in deep purple velvet robes, munching on crystallized pineapple, surrounded by the pictures of his famous students. Flitwick had been the most amusing so far though. Everyone had expected him to wear something serious like the rest of the Head of Houses but he and Ettore thought differently. Filius was wearing a fancy cape alright, deep royal blue in colour and to it matching white boxers with blue stripes, reaching just two inches over his knees; blue suspenders run over his chest, that was covered with wiry white-gray hair. His socks were white too, sparkling almost and reached up to his knees, leaving only that two inches uncovered - teasing the ladies and gents who might purchase the calendar. He stood on books, grinning, his wand in the air, even more books, feathers and a frog flying around him. Some of his Ravenclaws giggled and cheered him on as he appeared in the Great Hall, but that only made him grin brighter.

Harry missed almost half his colleagues as makeup artists collected him and dragged him aside to make him look perfect. After a while, when brushes stopped stroking his face and the cheerful team moved on to their next victim, he was lead to the empty side room behind the main table. It had been a while he had been here, but the place had not changed over the years.

"Meet _Viktor_ ," said the arousing Italian accent behind him. Harry twirled around. A small red box was held out for him. "I believe you know him. You met him in this very room, in fact."

Harry nodded. "We talked here first... well... sort of."

"He told me about you, you know." Ettore said smiling. "He likes you a lot. _He is a brilliant flyer_ , Mr. Krum said. It wasn't your fame, or even your beauty that I first heard about you, _bello_. It was just that you love flying. And I decided then, I want to meet this young man, who would use only a broom to steel an egg from a _drago_." Ettore chuckled and Harry couldn't help but smile too as he thought about the Triwizard Tournament.

Harry shook his head then. "I was mad."

"You were brilliant," Ettore said. "That is why I am interested in you, Harry. Undoubtedly, you are handsome and brave, the Saviour, they call you. But for me, you are the brilliant boy who likes to fly." He took Harry's right hand in his and placed a small kiss on it. "I would like to fly with you," he said then, looking up at Harry. "Think about it."

Before Harry could react, Ettore was out of the door, with one last smile thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Harry placed the box on the small table nearby and opened it. Simple red briefs were revealed, the colour so bright, it seemed radiant. Harry laughed when he saw the white "Firebolt" word sewed into the black hem. Krum was famous for his revealing pictures, where he was covered only by a Firebolt.

"You are willing to walk out there wearing that?"

Harry gasped when he heard the deep voice. He looked up. "Yeah," he shrugged. "People will like it and they will buy the calendar. You know they will. Claire needs the money. Lumos needs the money. We need the money."

"And I need my Defence professor. And not someone who would parade himself in tight shorts."

"I can do both and make money in the process."

"I do not need a whore," sneered Snape.

"I'm not a whore. I'm a courtesan, remember?" Harry smiled as Snape leant against the wall.

"All too well, Potter," sighed the Headmaster. "However, at the moment, I do not see the difference."

Harry took a deep breath. "A courtesan acts only on his king's command."

"So when I tell Ettore to give you something proper, you will not say a word."

Snape wasn't asking, but Harry nodded regardless. "I won't. Then again, your agreement with Ettore said you have to see me in it first and _truly_ not like it. Then you can choose a different one."

Snape huffed, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. "What are you waiting for then?"

Harry waited for a moment for Snape to go out of the room as well, but the headmaster didn't move. "You want to watch, or what?"

"Do not tell me, Potter, that you are shy in front of your own king?"

Harry turned around. He had done this a million times. Quidditch practice, the Burrow, school, training; dressing in front of other men had never been a problem. Though he never had to dress in front of _Snape_.

He took off his shirt and threw it on a chair. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks. Snape was awfully quiet behind him. It irritated him. Any remark, even a scathing one would be better than this quiet. He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. He gave it a little push and it went down. He hooked his thumbs into his shorts but froze for a moment, hesitant.

"Do you require help?" Snape asked and Harry didn't need to look at him to know he was smirking.

He was tempted to answer yes, but instead he just pulled off the briefs and stepped out of them too. He took the red one and pulled it on, knowing exactly, how he must look from behind, bending over, fully naked. Merlin, if he turned out indecent, it wouldn't be because of _Viktor_ but because of the erection he would be sporting inside _him_.

He adjusted himself once the shorts were fully on, then looked down on his body. "It's not that bad."

All of a sudden, he felt the other's presence behind him, there was no need to turn around. He wasn't sure if it was his magic, or his body, but Harry knew, Snape was standing right behind him, all but touching him. His nape prickled, his heartbeat was immediately drumming. He tried to see something while not actually turning his head, but of course, he couldn't.

He heard the rustling of cloth and knew Snape had moved, yet he still wasn't touching Harry. Then like a phantom touch, the skin tickled over his right shoulder. He could feel the weird sensation move down on his body. It was frustrating and enticing at the same moment. Why wouldn't Snape touch him? Harry wanted to step back, he craved the actual contact but then at the same time, he wanted this game to never stop.

The tingling feeling moved to his lower back and even thought it was weightless, it suddenly felt heavier. Snape was maddening as always, but this time, the madness raged in Harry's lower section and not in his brain.

"You want him," whispered Snape so quietly, Harry wasn't sure it was even said.

None the less, he answered him. "Have you seen him? Who doesn't?" They both knew who _he_ was.

Harry grunted sensually when the hands _finally_ descended on his waist. The long fingers were cold on his skin, yet still burning like ice.

"He's not for you," Snape stated darkly.

"Not even for you," Harry replied, stepping back.

Snape pressed up against him in response, his robes almost coarse against Harry's sensitive skin.

"You wouldn't enjoy him." The fingers all but cut into his waist, they held him so firmly. Snape was angry. But this time, not with Harry. "He would enchain you."

 _I would like to fly with you._ The words echoed in Harry's mind that was thick with arousal. "He would not. He wants to fly."

The fingers dashed into him; it was almost painful. "That is not what you want." It was a statement, not a question. Snape moved even closer, though Harry would have sworn that was impossible. He felt every inch of the man pressed to him.

"No," Harry whispered honestly, "not anymore."

The fingers moved from his waist, up on his abdomen, dancing on his muscles, sliding over his nipples. Harry moaned.

"You want something else," came the next statement from behind him. The hands on his body rubbed his chest, caressed his belly, run over his whole front pressing down firmly, pulling Harry even more to the man behind him.

"Yes."

Snape bit onto the curve of his neck and Harry threw back his head with a low groan. Two fingers pinched his nipples, while Snape's right hand inched lower and lower. "What do you want?"

Harry just grunted, his body writhing, hips bucking forward, rubbing his cock to the fine silk. He grasped Snape's right hand with his own and tried to move it down to show what he wanted even if he couldn't voice it, but the hand didn't budge from the black edge of the shorts.

"What. Do. You. Want?" Snape repeated demanding, and every word was another roll of his hips, another tweak of Harry's nipples, and another moan from Harry's mouth.

Harry bit his lips, blind with need, hips thrusting back and force as much as the hand let him. "I want to serve my king," he moaned loudly.

"Precisely," groaned Snape, fingertips dipping under the only fabric that covered Harry's erection.

The door opened with a loud bang. "Harry, you need to get out there! You're holding up the who-oh! OH! Oh my!" Hermione covered her face as she turned around to leave. "Terribly sorry. I thought, he was alone."

Snape was there before she could go though. "He is," he pressed out through gritted teeth, and went away, not even looking back.

Harry fell onto a chair and buried his face in his hands. "Hermione, you know I love you, but I hate you right now... just a tiny bit." He looked up and found himself face to face with a scarlet red and confused face.

"What on earth just happened in here?" She asked throwing Harry's shirt onto his lap before sitting down next him.

"I think I just swore loyalty to my king."

"I... don't understand."

"Neither do I..."

**o.O.o**

Severus took a deep breath as if that would help him calm down. However, most likely, not even an Avada Kedavra could help him calm his furiously beating heart now. Not to even mention his raging erection.

Potter, that damn fool. Unpredictable as always. Idiot boy. Severus wanted to go back in there and throttle him. Or fuck him. He was not entirely sure. Probably the latter. Definitely the latter. Damn. He ran five fingers through his hair. This was not good. He could not do this, not with his own professor. Damn Potter. Damn his unpredictability. Damn his beautiful body, his firm arse, his lips, his eyes.

Damn Ettore, too.

He knew it, that mad Italian knew perfectly that this would happen. _You would crave it_ , was that not what he had said? Well, Severus _craved_ it that was for sure. He walked into a trap. Would he lie, and demand something else for Potter? Or allow other men and women to see his professor like this? To let _Ettore_ see him like this? Who was he trying to fool now? Ettore had seen Potter like this already.

Severus closed his eyes, but he still saw Potter in his red briefs; wiry muscles, golden skin, raven hair, oh Merlin, this was not good. He wanted to go back in there and claim him. To finally wrap his hands around that cock and stroke him, make Potter lose control, make him cry breathless, make him come down Severus' throat. Ah yes, he wanted to make Potter come so many times that he would not be able to walk anymore, fuck his arse, pound into him so hard Potter would have to clutch onto Severus to hold on. And he wanted to watch Potter in the midst of this pure ecstasy, knowing he was the one doing this to the damn brat, making him come over and over again.

Merlin, this was what Ettore was talking about, was it not? The king, just a servant of his people, nothing else.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Draco drawled and he looked up, sneering.

Grey eyes widened for a moment when his godson noticed his aroused state and Severus drew his robes around himself tightly, folding his arms on his chest.

"A very _hot_ ghost?" Malfoy asked then the smirk disappeared from his lips. "Was it Ettore?"

Severus shook his head. "Potter," he admitted quietly.

" _WHAT_?" Draco cried. "Potter? Our Potter? Potter, the twat? The idiot? The one you didn't even want to talk to until I bought him for you?"

"Could you lower your voice, Draco?" Severus hissed. "How many other Potters do you know of?"

" _He_ did that to you?" Ask the professor incredulous. "Wait, wait... _you_ let _him_ do that to you?"

"Go away, Draco, before I hex you out of here," Severus frowned.

"Oh no, I won't," Draco laughed. "I'm going to hear this story. And I am going to ridicule you for next ten years. And you're going to sit and endure it, because you know as well that this is the most hilarious thing that could have ever happened."

"I will kill you," Severus muttered but crossed the corridor and stormed into an empty room.

Draco sat down, while Severus just roamed in circles. "Really though? Harry fucking Potter made you hard? In what deranged universe is that even an option?"

"Apparently, in this one..."

"But... what...? How...? Why...? Severus, this is got to be a joke, for Merlin's sake. I mean just your history! The prophecy, his mother was your best friend, you hated his father, you hated _him_ , and now you're telling me that... what? That you just really, really wanted to fuck him all this time?"

Severus snapped up his head, a menacing look on his face which Draco evidently took as a yes.

"Unbelievable. I could sooner accept the fact that you're into that dumb half-giant, than Potter." Draco shook his head, seemingly disgusted. "Is it a potion, or something? Did he give something to you?"

"No," he said, then added in his mind, ' _Nothing beside a hard erection and nice memories for future, no doubt necessary, wanking sessions.'_

"Severus, you really have to stop throwing surprising facts at my head. First, you tell me you've been working against the Dark Lord all my life, and now this?"

"It is hardly the same, Draco..."

"Oh indeed, I had an easier time accepting the first. It's _Potter_ , for Merlin's sake! We hate Potter! He's maddening, unpredictable, an imbecile, impolite, a brat, a twat, a fucking moron, should I go on or do you finally remember what else you've been saying about him in the last twenty years?"

"He is an idiot, no doubt." Severus agreed. "However..."

"However what? A fuckable one at least?"

"Draco," Severus warned him. "You know his true characteristics as well, as I do."

"Yes, I just listed them," Draco snapped. "What else is there?"

"Oh, I do not know, how about bravery? Loyalty? Righteousness? Honesty?"

"Honesty?" Draco roared, laughing. "We're talking about the prick, who lied to you during the six years you have been his professor."

"No, Draco," Severus said sternly, though not raising his voice. "We are talking about the _man,_ who fought to clear my name despite what I have done to him, despite the deeds I have committed. I have a life now because that _prick_ , as you refer to him, let me have a second chance!"

Draco was watching him intently, his eyes narrowing, then suddenly, he was smirking. "Good gracious, don't tell me you're in love with him."

"Do not be mad!"

"I'm _mad_? You're the one in love with _Harry Potter_!"

The denial was on the tip of his tongue but something did not let him say it. "Damn it, Draco!" he said instead.

"Good Lord," Draco groaned quietly. "That is impossible. That is just..."

"Mad? Ridiculous? Practically, the biggest joke this life could ever pull on me?" Severus offered sneering.

Draco shrugged. "If you think about it objectively, it kind of makes sense."

Severus finally allowed the hysterical laughter to break out of him. "No. No it does not," he said, continuously shaking his head. "You know what makes sense? You and Ettore. Granger and that idiot Weasley, even I see they were made for each other. Potter and myself...?"

"You are different, yes. But... you know...you kind of fit... I mean... Potter is this hero, bright and shiny, whereas you are..."

"Don't you fucking dare insult me right now," snapped Severus before Draco could finish. "I am already _this_ close to hexing you just because you are here."

"You are... _you_. Can you really imagine Potter with someone equally nice and just _proper_? I can't. He would get bored next to them in a heartbeat. But with you... Boredom will be the last on his mind. And he knows you. I mean... for fucks sake, he'd seen you basically spitting venom at him. If he's still willing to... make you this hard... I don't know... I would consider this."

"Are you actually telling me to seriously consider this whole mad situation?" Severus asked incredulous.

"I'm not telling you to do anything," Draco stated, rising up a hand. "But I have to admit, I've known you all my life and I have never seen you this desperate to fuck someone. And the fact that it is _Potter_ you are so keen to get, it does make me wonder. If it would be any other wizard, I would know it was just your cock taking over, but with Potter... there must be something else there too."

"First time in your life, your reasoning actually makes sense. I hate it," Severus huffed.

"Good. Now as to why I'm actually here. Ettore wants to know if you approve of Potter's outfit," Draco smirked. "I guess it's safe to say you do."

Severus laughed. "Surprising as it may be..."

"Oh, yes, it is so surprising that he already brought your outfit. He says, you have to go to him to collect it, because you will need his assistance."

"His assistance? I can dress myself on my own, thank you very much."

Draco stood and grinned. "Not the way he does, I'm afraid." He walked to door, his hand was already on the knob when he turned back. "A good advice," he said with an almost sad smile, "Ettore is good. It's not exaggeration when he says he knows what you want and he can give it to you. And he wants Potter. He truly wants him. Not for his fame, not as a trophy, he simply wants to see Potter crazed with need, something I imagine you can relate to. He wants to make him feel good. And believe me, if he ever gets his hands on Potter, Potter wouldn't want anyone else. I don't." He slowly lifted his shirt and showed the deep red scars that covered the upper part of his chest. "I didn't say a word all night and yet he gave me _exactly_ want I needed. He sees into your soul, Severus. Fuck him, if that's what it takes to get his attention away from Potter, but don't let him take your little friend. Don't let Ettore break him in. He's like an addiction, Severus. It's never enough of him."


	8. Chapter Seven: Severus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini dictionary: mio Principe - my prince / mio amore - my love / Cazzo Madre di Vergilius - Fucking Mother of Vergil / perfetto - perfect / Cazzo, ti voglio così tanto - Fuck, I want you so much

**Chapter Seven: Severus**

**o.O.o**

Ettore was waiting for him in the same room, where he had given Potter the red box.

Severus' attire wasn't boxed; it was draped out on a table for him to see it clearly. As his gaze explored the pieces, he felt a tinge of relief. He wasn't asked to parade in tight boxers. He saw pants and even a coat.

"So, who am I getting into?"

Ettore's gaze was soft on him, almost affectionate. The Italian moved forward and laying a hand on the small of Severus' back, he led him closer to the table. Only then, did Severus realize, there were no shirts, or shoes, or vests, just the coat and the trousers. Both simple and unadorned, black as the shadows, not silk but something heavier and rougher, like cotton, but when Severus touched the fabric, it seemed rich, and it almost streamed between his fingers.

He knew the answer, before Ettore said, "Yourself."

Severus looked into the blue eyes, so close, so honest, and so arousing. "Are you not a bit too self-confident?"

Ettore smiled softly, kindly. "My _collections_ are, indeed, named after my lovers. But this is not part of my collection. _Severus_ is a gift. It may remain nameless if that is your wish but it is undoubtedly fashioned after you and for you. No other man shall wear _him_."

Severus remained silent. It did not really matter if the outfit had a name or not. Anyone, who looked at it and knew Severus, would recognize it instantly.

"I know, what you think," Ettore said as he shifted behind Severus and took his robe between his fingers. Severus let him remove it, eyes nailed to the clothes he would be wearing in a few minutes, but ears listening to the melodic accent. "That I am only after you because you would make an interesting design among my collections. You think that I only use men, have them and throw them away when I get bored. That is not true, Severus. I am not a bad person." He folded the robe and placed it carefully on the table, then grabbed Severus by the arm and turned him gently around so they would be face to face. As he kept on talking, his soft fingers went from button to button, undoing them. Severus did not stop him. Why, he did not understand.

"I do not use people, if anything, people use me. I am but a servant to them, so eager to please. You know I would be eager to please you as well. Sex is just a tool for pleasure, _mio_ Severus. Do you not want me to cause you pleasure?" The coat was slid off too and folded, then placed on top of the robe. Quick fingers were back on buttons, white ones this time, deep blue eyes never left Severus. "You do not have to be inside me to make me happy. Just let me make _you_ happy. You know I could and that is why you are afraid of me."

"I am not afraid," Severus growled jerking away, but Ettore didn't let him move. The Italian drew a hand around him and grasped into the back of his shirt, his left hand still working on unbuttoning it. Serafini stepped closer and leant to Severus neck, not kissing it, not even touching it. Only his hot, wet breath ghosted on the sensitive skin and Severus knew he let himself be trapped once again.

"You are, and you know you are, _mio diletto_." Ettore whispered into his skin. "I offer you something, something you thought you can easily reject, but now you are tempted. You are curious. There is nothing wrong with that. You should not be afraid. You are allowed to enjoy yourself."

The moment Severus' hand shot out to grasp into that waving brown hair, Ettore stepped back with a soft smirk on his lush lips. Severus fisted his hand, then let it fall next to his side again. His shirt hang on him lose, and fully unbuttoned, revealing a stripe of bare skin. Not nearly enough, judging by the hungry expression on Ettore's face.

"Change now," the Italian directed him. "Call for me when you are done," with that he turned to leave.

"Why are you doing this?" Severus asked suddenly. He didn't understand Ettore. Even if his intensions were clear, he was almost as unpredictable as Potter. "You already had Draco, why is that not enough? Why do you want me and Potter, too?"

Ettore stopped and look back. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, he seemed angry. "I am not collecting trophies, if that is what you are insinuating."

He was truly angry, Severus realized, and it made him even more beautiful. He seemed wilder. More uncontrolled than before. "Did I offend you?" Severus asked, amused.

Ettore took two steps towards Severus, clearly fuming now. There was a storm, a hurricane in his ocean blue eyes. "If you still think all I do is fuck people, I misjudged you, Severus Snape." His words cracked like a whip in the silence of the room.

"Oh no," Severus jeered, stepping closer as well. He all but pressed against Ettore as he taunted him. "You create _art_."

He all but saw the thunder in the blue eyes. Hands grabbed into the hem of his shirt. Severus' lips pulled into a smug smile. It pleased him to see Ettore this riled up. The Italian dropped his charms, his sweet smile, his collected demeanour. This was the dominance he was so famous of. The sheep skin was shed and now the wolf stood in front of him, growling, dangerous and even more arousing than the sheep could ever be.

The blue eyes widened then, and the storm cleared. Ettore looked absolutely taken aback for a moment. "I did misjudge you, _diletto_ ," was all he murmured before he crushed his lips to Severus' and kissed him hungrily. Severus moved too, but not to push him away. No, he pulled the Italian closer and a part of him hated himself for doing it, but the other part... the other part was burning with desire.

Ettore stopped before the kiss would become uncontrolled. He moved away, shaking his head and smiling. He ran his fingers through his thick hair to rearrange it, then pointed an accusing finger on Severus. "I heard your tale, _mio Principe_. I heard about your dark youth, and even darker manhood. I heard about your bravery, of course, who did not, but I heard about the reason for it as well. A long lost love, eternal remorse, revenge. I made an assumption based on that, and, _mio amore_ , was I wrong," admitted the Italian. "Dress now, but know this Severus. When I will be back, I will give you one last offer. If you decline, I will stay your friend and you will never be bothered by another offer. If you say yes, I will give you, what now I know you truly want."

"Do not think you know me, Ettore. There was only one person, who truly knew of everything I am, and I killed him."

"That would be arrogant of me, _mio_ Severus," he agreed. "I may not know everything of you yet, but I am always eager to learn."

He made a small bow, then left the room, leaving Severus alone to finally change.

The Headmaster shrugged out of his shirt and dropped it on the pile of his other clothes. He was on a dangerous road, he knew it. But he could not help it.

Draco's words echoed in him like the sound of bodeful bells. His godson was perfectly right; Ettore was more dangerous for Potter than Severus had first assumed. His charm, his aura drew everyone in. Even himself, Severus admitted and he did not even have to look down on his body for evidence of it. The worst of it all was, that Ettore was not lying, when he said, he was not looking for trophies. His anger was true, he was honestly offended by the idea of using people only for sex.

Severus pushed down his trousers and underwear, certain that he was to wear _Severus_ on his skin with nothing between them. The pants he had to put on were simple with two pockets on the sides but none in the back. The material on the outside was still a mystery, but inside silk ran up on his legs, he recognized the sensation. He was barefoot on the cold stone, but the trousers kept him strangely warm. Only when he reached for the coat did he notice the black leather belt. He hooked it in and buckled it, wondering why the belt buckle was silver. Did Ettore know he wore a silver necklace? Or was it just coincidence? Finally, he put on the coat as well. It was heavy in his hand but the moment it was on him, the weight seemed to have disappeared. He didn't even think of buttoning it up. He suspected there was a reason he did not receive a shirt in the first place.

"Ettore!" he called for the man and the door opened right away.

" _Cazzo Madre di Vergilius_!" Ettore groaned lustfully as he came closer with quick steps, and Severus had a faint idea what the swearwords meant, even if it was in a language he did not know. "No, no, no," Ettore said then and gently took hold of the coat and pulled it off Severus, draping it on his shoulders instead. "That is the cloak you wear, not your true self."

Serafini then walked around him, nodding to himself and muttering in Italian. "Your godson has a beautiful body, you know. Yours is so different, but just as enticing," he said suddenly as he stopped in front of Severus, laying five fingers on his slightly hairy chest.

Then he knelt down, his hand sliding downwards, stopping only on Severus' hip. He was eyeing the headmaster's crotch and belly, but without the slightest passion. This moment, Severus knew, he was only a model and not the man Ettore wanted so badly.

When the long fingers grabbed into the black pants and pulled on them, a surprised groan broke out from Severus.

" _Si, si_ ," Ettore muttered to himself. " _Si, magnifico_."

Severus just raised an eyebrow and watched the Italian drag the pants about three inches under his hipbones, right above the black batch of wiry hair. A few strands were even visible when the mad Italian finally looked up with a teasing grin. " _Perfetto_ ," he moaned then, his hands still on Severus' bare skin.

The change in Ettore's eyes was clear as if a cloud had just shifted from the sun and now its brightness could finally fully bring out the blue in those pools. Beautiful did not cover the sight in front of Severus. The Italian was gorgeous on his knees, his mouth partly open with a small smile pulling up the corners. The scar on his lips made him look wilder, but the way his tongue ran across the lower lip to wet it, was definitely boyish. Long black eyelashes framed those unnaturally blue eyes and his sharp jaw line was darkened by stubble. He was dressed but if he were kneeling in front of Severus utterly naked, his eyes would still be his most arousing features.

And his smile, Severus added when those lush lips pulled into a playful grin.

"May I?" Ettore asked then.

Severus grasped into the table behind him before he answered, "Yes, you may."

The eyes closed then, and Serafini finally pressed his lips to Severus' naked skin. His mouth caressed the muscles on the headmaster's belly, shifted over his hipbone and sucked in the sensitive skin beneath it. Severus groaned, keeping his hand where it was, though a part of him wanted to bury it in that curling brown hair.

" _Cazzo_ , Severus, _ti voglio così tanto_..." Ettore moaned, moving his hands to grasp into Severus' round buttocks and pulling him even closer. Wet tongue squirmed and thrust and licked under the edge of his tight pants and Severus groaned loudly.

Someone answered with a similar groan, but it wasn't Ettore; his mouth was right over Severus' cock by then, licking, wetting the fabric that covered the hard erection. He could see it, _feel_ it; it was glorious.

Severus looked up.

Potter stared at them, _Viktor_ clenched between his fingers. He was not furious, more like disappointed. His green eyes were only on Severus, his beautiful lips slowly pulling into an angry scowl.

Severus did not look away. He held the gaze, keeping his own features from showing anything. He stayed impassionate even when Ettore reached between his legs. He didn't moan, though the arousal shot through him like an arrow.

There was a question in the deep green eyes, which looked more hurt than ever now. _How could you?_

Severus hated himself for this, but Malfoy, once in his life, was right about something. He would even let Ettore fuck him, if it meant he could make the Italian forget about Potter.

Potter would be trapped if Ettore held him even once. The man was truly good, Draco did not lie, and Potter would not be immune to Ettore's charm. Not like Severus.

Because Potter was not in love.

And Severus was.

Potter smacked the red pants away and turned, marching out.

Severus slacked slightly, the pain in his chest unbearable. Daggers clawed at his heart and not even the beautiful man on his knees could make it go away. Nothing would make this go away just those green eyes looking at him without derision. But that would not happen any time soon, if ever.

He suddenly became aware that the blue eyes were watching him. Ettore leant back and sat on his heels. He seemed... sad. "I do not mind being used, but I take offence if you lie to me, Severus."

"I do not know what you are referring to, Ettore."

"The matters of the heart, _that_ is what I am referring to." Ettore said sitting back, tugging one leg up, stretching the other out. His light grey pants were tight on him, making it hard to hide his erection. Not that he made even an effort to conceal it. "The other man you are thinking of while I have my mouth on you."

"How...?" Severus almost gaped but schooled his features then.

"It is my job to read people, Severus. To recognise desire. That is not desire in your eyes. That is pain. You hate this," Ettore spat angry. "Why then? Why would you say yes then?"

Severus did not know what to say. Honest answer was out of the question. Matters with Potter must remain a secret, buried somewhere deep, never addressed. Maybe then he could close his eyes and let Ettore, or any other men take Potter, but not yet. It hurt too much now.

"I am sorry," was all he said then.

"You deceived me," Ettore stated. "Cunning is admirable, but not when directed at you. You are true to your house and I should have seen it coming," he heaved a sigh then went on, softer now. "It is my fault as well. I was distracted by _that_ ," he admitted ruefully nodding towards Severus' hard cock.

Severus could not help the smile as he watched the pouting man. Soon it turned into laughing. He stretched a hand to pull Ettore up, which was accepted and a moment later, Ettore stood, patting dust from his pants.

"Unbelievable." He muttered as he leant against the desk too. "First Draco, now you. You Slytherins will be the death of me."

"Draco?" Severus asked surprised. "What did he do?"

"He held my heart for a night, then crushed it like the _drago_ he is." Ettore smiled sadly, but did not say more and Severus did not ask again.

Serafini pushed himself away from the table and looked once more Severus in the eyes. "Do not lie to me again, I ask you. Lies are despicable venom that destroy you slowly. Truth might be hard to take, but it is not venom, it does not kill." He held out a hand then, "Friends?" He asked.

"Friends," Severus agreed taking the hand and shaking it.

Ettore lifted their joined hands to his lips and placed an innocent kiss on Severus' knuckles. "Lies you tell only to yourself are venom too," he said softly. "Stop poisoning yourself."

Severus blinked surprised and the next moment the Italian was at the door. He looked back, his blue eyes roaming on Severus' body. "Oh and, Severus, take care of that erection before you come out," he smirked. "A temptation that size is hard to resist."

Severus laughed, glad that some things would never change.

Harry still felt cheated more than a week later. He knew, he shouldn't have. He knew now, that this had been only a game between him and Snape. A game, he lost to Ettore, a game, he stopped playing the moment he had seen them together. But, Merlin it hurt.

He didn't talk to Snape nowadays. Every school related matter he mentioned to Minerva, and every personal conversation they might have had ceased since that day. He sometimes noticed Snape watch him from afar, seemingly lost in his thoughts but the moment, he realized that Harry had noticed it, he would look away and stalk somewhere out of sight.

**o.O.o**

Harry didn't mind. He didn't want to talk to the man anymore. The previous playful innuendos were taunting jeers now, mockery, nothing more.

Yet, life seemed unnaturally bleak without them. Even his lessons were boring; Harry seemed to have lost his drive. Everyone noticed it, even his students. He felt bad about that, but there wasn't anything he could do. Snape had chosen Ettore and Harry could almost forgive that, but to let Ettore suck him only minutes after they had almost... almost...

Harry shook his head and concentrated on his breakfast.

He shouldn't think about _that_. That was a thought off limits. A memory, too nice, too vivid, still after days spent with hatred and disappointment; and yet those memories were still haunting him. Lips on his skin, hands on his body, deep voice whispering in his ear.

He pushed his plate away. He couldn't eat.

An owl landed in front of him. He reached for the envelope she was carrying in her beak, but before he could take it, he heard laugher from one side. It was Malfoy. A similar owl stood in front of him. He was holding three pictures.

Another noise came from his right side; scraping of heavy chair on old stone. Snape stood from the table with a sudden motion, and an owl jumped frightened into the air as the man marched out, black robe billowing behind him. Harry watched him, wondering for a few seconds, then he noticed the small cards Snape was clutching in his hands.

What on Merlin's beard was going on?

The owl in front of him squeaked softly, reminding Harry of her presence.

"Sorry," he said, taking the letter.

He opened the envelope and a letter fell out first.

_Mio Bello_ , it started and Harry knew instantly who it came from. He also realized that Valentine's Day was tomorrow, and he also suspected just what Snape and Malfoy had received. He read on.

_I miss you every moment. Your green eyes haunt me in my dreams, from which I wake hungry and insatiable. I wonder day and night how I could see you again, but my work holds me captive in Italy. The sea and mountains I have once loved and filled me with peace now madden me, because so much water and land stand between us._

_What I would do to touch you again..._

_Anything, I keep telling to myself. Which is why I am sending you this invitation. My Aunt – you may remember her from the Charity Gala I have first laid eyes on your beautiful naked body – is organizing a party on St George's Day in April. You must come and visit. I may not manage to be there, however the thought that you will be in the same house, I have spent most of my youth fills me with great pleasure. The event will be a silent auction. Just a dinner, nameless donations and dancing._

_Most of the guests will be old and dry so take Severus with you. And tell him to be nice, because Hogwarts will be listed as well. Ask Draco, too, for me, though I am certain, he will decline._

_I wish to see you all, my dear friends, but work might keep me here. Enjoy the party as my guests – eat and drink and dance. You all deserve a pleasant evening._

_Another reason I am writing You, Bello, is that our calendar comes out tomorrow. Oh, it is a sight to behold! Claire forbids me to send you one, she would like to keep that honour to herself, after all, she was the mastermind behind it, but I was allowed the send some of the pictures. In the envelope, you will find three of my favourites. Of course, they are the ones about Draco, Severus and Yourself._

_My copies are, unfortunately, soiled by now. I am sure, upon seeing them, you will understand why._

_Always yours,_

_Ettore_

_PS: Make sure you visit the Library in my Aunt's house. It is almost as beautiful as you are. One of the dreams about you happened there. I fucked you hard against the bookshelf, and you came on Shakespeare, I clearly remember that. Since then, I cannot read Macbeth without getting hard._

Harry blushed madly as he read the post script, but folded the letters, and sunk it deep in his pockets before anyone could snatch it or peak into it. He shook the envelope and, indeed, three cards fell out. The first two were Draco and him, nothing he hadn't seen before.

But the last one. Blood filled up his cock as he watched the picture. The intense expression, the naked chest, the pants pulled way below the waist line, the pose itself. The thick muscles, the smooth abdomen, the slightly hairy chest.

Oh Merlin, the thick veins beneath Snape's hipbones – he craved to lick them, suck them...

The picture was pure madness; a slap to his broken heart and still...

He fully understood why Ettore's copy was soiled. He even suspected in a couple of days, his own would not look any different either.

**o.O.o**

"Mate!"

Harry turned towards the familiar voice, he could easily pick out even in the general noise. The Leaky Cauldron was full once again, but Ron managed to nick a seemingly quiet and hidden booth under the staircase. Harry walked towards him, pleasantly smiling at some of the familiar faces and even at those who he did not know. Some strangers waved at him and he responded with a nod, trying to stay under the radar as much as he could, despite his fame. The flaming red hair stood out from the many blacks and browns and some blonds. Manoeuvring between chairs, Harry nailed his gaze on that fiery colour and swept through the crowd.

He noticed the miserable look on his best friend's face even before he got too their table. The two empty glasses were an even more obvious tell-tale that something was wrong. He turned back as he sat down on the bench and held up two fingers to signal his order. Tom nodded when he saw it and pulled out two more glasses from under the counter.

Harry shrugged off his cloak, but left on his scarf as the cold March wind had crept under his warm clothes and was still in his bones. "What happened?" He asked then.

Ron raised his gaze, blue eyes looking like a basset's, beady and with dark circles under it.

"Merlin, did someone die?" Harry asked now more impatient. Ron shook his head but didn't say a word. He seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment, even though he was staring at Harry. His mouth was forming an upside ' _u_ '.

"Hermione…" he pressed out, voice faint and shaking.

"Is she alright?" Harry urged the redhead, all but grabbing him by the collar to stir him up a bit. "What did you do?"

Ron dropped his glance onto the dirty table between them and scratched some small, dark mark. Whatever it was, it didn't let go, no matter how vigorously Ron worked on removing it. All of a sudden, he stopped and froze completely, then looked up once again.

"What makes you think, _I_ did something?"

"Because if it were Hermione, you would be complaining not looking as if Voldemort just killed your cat. Speak already, damn it! You're scaring me!"

"Just for the record, if he killed Crookshanks, I would be the happiest person. That cat is a menace," Ron sighed as Tom put down their drinks. He grabbed his Firewhisky and downed the content of the glass in one big gulp.

Harry waited, not so patiently, until Ron finished shuddering and his ears stopped smoking. "Will you finally spit it out?"

"Hermione's pregnant."

The whole bar seemed to have silenced suddenly and Harry thought Ron might have just cast a Muffliato. But then, as he stared at Ron, he realized that no, it was just the shock. The other young man meanwhile, grabbed the second glass and emptied it as well.

"But that's… that's good news," said Harry not quiet convinced. "Right? I mean you two wanted kids, didn't you?"

"Yeah… it's great…" Ron muttered.

"Well, you don't seem happy about it," he pointed out, holding up two fingers again. Tom nodded again and pulled out another two glasses, his smile not so honest anymore.

"I am," Ron breathed, and forced a bit of a smile on his face. "It's just…" He looked Harry in the eyes. He seemed really desperate at that moment.

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right? I won't say a word to her," stated Harry, needing that whisky more than ever.

Ron's next words where quiet, barely even a whisper. "I'm so scared, Harry…"

"Why on earth are you scared?" Harry asked, eyes wide open with honest astonishment. "Don't tell me… Everything's alright with you and Hermione, right? She didn't… you know…?"

"What?" Ron frowned for a moment then went red. "Oi, you're talking about my pregnant girlfriend! Of course, she didn't cheat on me!"

"Then why the hell are you scared?"

"It's a baby, Harry!" Cried Ron as if that would explain everything. It didn't.

"Of course, it's a baby," Harry groaned. "But babies aren't scary."

"They are, when they are yours!" Ron replied. "I don't know what to do, Harry! I'm barely a man myself, and now I'm going to be a dad!" As if saying it aloud had made him truly understand the words, his expression softened suddenly. Blue eyes went wide and Harry couldn't help but smile as Ron said quietly, and in awe, "Harry, I'm going to be a dad. A _father_ , Harry."

"And that is wonderful news," Harry laughed, as Tom set down another two glasses of amber liquid.

Ron paled suddenly. His freckles seemed to have multiplied in the last ten seconds. "I'm going to be a horrible father! I don't know how to raise a kid!"

Harry finally understood the problem. "Ron, you have the biggest family, I have ever seen. You'll be just fine."

"Yeah, I have, but I didn't raise any of them, did I?" Ron groaned, sipping his whisky to calm his edgy hand. "Only Ginny is younger than me, and I was horrible with her. I always took her toys, charmed her dolls headless. I once put a gnome in her bed, Harry. A _living_ gnome."

Harry sniggered. "Okay, you were a bad brother. But you'll be a great father."

"You think so?" He asked weakly.

"Of course! And besides, I bet Hermione will be a walking lexicon."

Finally, a small smile touched Ron's face. "She already bought books."

"I bet she did. This news must have been one hell of a birthday gift, though" Harry grinned. Ron's birthday was a bit more than a week ago, but they only had time now to sit down and celebrate. School had kept Harry busy, while it seemed Ron had other things on his mind.

"I was so happy when she told me," Ron grinned. "But since then all I can think about is how I'm going to muck this up, too."

"You won't. And if it's any reassurance, the Dursleys were horrible, but I still turned out okay."

Ron laughed, blue eyes shining once again. "Even I won't ever be that bad."

"What did your Mom and Dad say?"

"Mom was beyond herself. She cried and everything. Dad was a bit more rational, asking about bigger house and moving and stuff. Mom hushed him though," Ron sniggered. "I'm meeting him tomorrow after work. We're going to have a bit of a…"

"Father Talk?" Harry helped him out feeling giddy.

Ron blushed, "Yeah. A father, can you imagine it, Harry? I mean, I always wanted family and we talked a lot about it with 'Mione, and we figured… with time… you know… engagement, marriage and then children. She's so focused on her work and all, I never thought… But now… it's all coming. She wants a small fall wedding, before the baby comes. She's already thinking about how she would manage work and the child at the same time. She's taking it so amazingly. So grown up… and I'm just sitting here drinking, feeling bat shit scared that I'm going to drop my new born."

Harry snorted the whisky up in his nose, then coughed.

"It's not funny, mate. I'm serious. I've never been so scared in my life."

"Sorry," Harry laughed. "Ron, you're going to be brilliant. I'm sure Molly would be eager to help, if anything comes up. Show you how to change crappy diapers, how to feed it… how not to drop it…"

Ron shot a nasty look at him, but then grinned. "Cheers," he said then, clinking his glass to Harry's. "Do you recon it'll be a girl? I hope it's a girl." He said then dropping the empty glass next to the others. As Harry finished his drink too, Ron turned around and motioned for Tom for two more. The bartender seemed definitely irritated now. "You'll be the godfather, right? Hermione says we should do stuff to wizarding traditions and all, so the baby will need to have a godfather at its naming. But, honestly, mate, I just want you there. Not for the baby, but for me. For us."

Warmness spread through Harry but it had nothing to do with the fiery, spicy whisky. "Sure, Ron. It would be an honour."

Ron nodded, then tapped Harry's arm that was resting on the table, obviously feeling awkward all of a sudden. Emotions had never been his forte. Harry cleared his throat and looked at his best friend reassuringly.

"So, how's Hogwarts?" Ron coughed slightly too, then pulled himself together. "Kids treating you good? Any more letters from Ettore?"

"I'm not even going to ask how you know about that, but tell Hermione that the next time, I won't be there to keep Ettore off her." Harry huffed jovially.

"She's immune to him," Ron said proudly.

"He irritates her. And I imagine we don't want an irritated _and_ pregnant Hermione around."

"Oh. No, I imagine we would like to avoid that," Ron paled again. "So, you're going to meet him again?"

"Yeah, I guess I have to go. I mean, it's a charity thing… The Aunt expects us. You can come, too, if you want."

"Us being? Did I miss something? And no, thanks. Unless Hermione insists, I'd rather skip this one. Old people and good looking Italians aren't for me."

"Snape, and no, you didn't. Nothing important," Harry sighed, then waved with a hand. "Fancy food is your thing though, and there will be plenty of that."

Tom chose that moment the drop a full bottle of whisky on their table. "I'll add it to your account," he grunted, then skidded off.

"I finally paged through the calendar," Ron looked up, pouring three fingers of firewhisky in both glasses. "Flitwick looks mental. Snape looks… well… not like Snape."

Bitter sensation filled Harry's chest as he searched the inside pocket of his coat. He pulled out the previously mentioned photo, wondering why he carried it around with himself. As his eyes drifted over the picture he had known inch by inch now, the cold seemed to have evaporated from his body completely. He dropped his scarf too and placed the photo on the table.

"Say it," he nodded towards the card. "He looks good."

Ron nodded. "Not my type. But there's definitely something there."

Harry leaned back, hand on the glass. " _Severus_ …" he said suddenly, keeping his gaze strictly on the amber whisky. "That's the name of his clothes. You know what that means?"

Ron's eyes widened slightly, but he shook his head. "You don't know that. He could have…"

"What? Ettore names his designs after his _lovers_. Not just any people he happens to fancy. That's why there isn't a _Harry_ yet."

Harry didn't dare look up for a few moments, knowing that the blue eyes would be on him.

"Harry…" Ron said then quietly. He took the picture and watched it almost mesmerized for a moment. "Which one of them are you actually jealous of? I heard you babbling about Ettore ever since New Year. Clearly you fancy him. Do you not want him?"

"It's not really a matter of wanting him or not." Harry answered to his glass. "I mean, yes, he's handsome and all, but if he walked up to me now and asked me if I wanted to sleep with him, I would say no. But the more I'm around him, the more I want to say yes. Does that make sense?"

"Not in the least," Ron nodded supportively. "And what about Snape?"

"Snape's... different?" Harry offered, taking a sip. Now that he didn't have anything else to watch, he finally looked at his best friend. "I hate him right now, but I hate myself even more for ever getting involved. I let him too close. I played a game and lost. I should have known better; he's a Slytherin. I hate him for giving in to Ettore. I hate that they met because of me. I hate this fucking calendar," he heaved a sigh, then added in a low voice, "Then again, I jerked out to that picture three times just this week. And not because of all the hatred."

"Fuck Harry! Too much bloody information!" Ron grunted throwing the picture on the table. "But that does answer the question."

"What question?" Harry frowned.

"Which you like better. Isn't that what we're talking about?" Ron frowned too, using one of the empty glasses to push the picture further away from himself.

"No, I was just complaining, actually. But that is true. And impossible. I can't just hook up with _Snape_."

"Impossible is every day business for you, Harry," Ron pointed out. "And besides, if you won't, someone will. I mean that picture screams dark fantasies. And I mean sex-like, not Death Eater-like."

"Yes, thanks, Ron, that's very helpful." Harry huffed. "Why don't we just talk about you and your upcoming fatherhood? Scary was it, you said? No doubt, couldn't be easy taking care of a tiny human. So fragile, so many things could go wrong…"

Ron held up both his hand, surrendering, but was laughing as he said, "Okay, okay, I get it, no talk about someone else fancying your man. But remind me, why exactly can't you just hook up with Snape? I mean, if he wants to hook up with you, that is."

"That is a big if," snorted Harry. "He's my boss, for one. And we have a history. A big and long and ugly history. And then there's the curse. What if hooking up with him, is the very thing that will make me unable to return to the DADA post? If we keep it a secret and someone finds out, they can fire us both. Snape belongs to Hogwarts and I like this job and I don't want to risk it. Not that it matters… would you want to hook up with anyone after you had Ettore Serafini?"

"One man would be one more than I could ever want around my arse, thank you. It's not me, we're talking about. Even if Snape hooked up with him, he didn't stay, did he? And Ettore invited you to his Aunt's Library, didn't he? Not Snape, or that ferret, _you_. That tells me Snape didn't want to stay with him. He doesn't strike me as a one night stand man. I doubt there was even anything between them, actually."

"I've seen them, Ron," said Harry quietly.

"What?"

"Snape and Ettore. Behind the Great Hall. Ettore was on his knees."

Ron seemed sorry. "He couldn't be tying Snape's shoelaces or something, could he?"

Harry shook his head, and emptied his glass. "Not unless Snape is using shoelaces to tie his pants instead of a zipper."

"Merlin, Harry… That must have been hard to see." Ron reacted quietly.

Harry just nodded. It was. It was fucking hard. It still hurt. "I hate him," he muttered.

"He's a bloody idiot, if he passed you on for that Italian. Ettore is a fun guy, but he's nothing like you, Harry. His loss, mate. You know what, take him with you on that dinner, and then flirt your way through every bloke. Make him see what he lost."

Slowly, a smile grew on Harry's lips. "That would be bad. And very low."

"Just the thing he deserves," Ron grinned.

 

* * *

 

_**Couple pieces from the calendar** _

  


	9. Chapter Eight: Godfathers

**Chapter Eight: Godfathers**

**o.O.o**

April arrived carrying wind and rain with it. Just when the students and the staff of Hogwarts got used to the gloomy, dark and soggy sight outside the castle, they were gifted with a day of sunshine, just so they would remember there was something else other than dampness. Then, the weather would go back to cloudy once again, and the students pulled their cloaks more firmly around themselves as they marched on the grounds between the greenhouses and the castle.

Severus did not care all that much about the sunshine, or the weather at all. In his mind and heart there was a storm, cruel, cold, and never ending. It only got worse every time he saw Potter. Lightning struck in the middle of his chest when he accidentally looked into those emerald eyes during breakfast, or on the corridor but saw only contempt and disappointment in there. He reached a point sometimes around St. Patrick's Day, when he wished the curse would just strike again, and Potter left the school. But he was not in luck, because the curse did not show its powers yet and Potter was always there, turning up in those moments when Severus least expected him.

He knew he had hurt Potter and for what? His absurd, desperate plan went wrong the moment Ettore had seen into his heart. Now, Potter distanced himself from Severus – understandably – while Ettore could solely focus all his charm, avid attention and soul-crushingly blue eyes on Potter. Severus did not have a chance now. Not against Serafini, a man so perfect for Potter. Not just beautiful and intelligent, but someone who would not be bothered by Potter's fame and yet see the young man for who he really was.

What could he offer? A bitter, old man, frowned upon by half of the community, stained for a lifetime and bound to Hogwarts. This was not a life for Potter. He did not fail to notice that Potter's enthusiasm for teaching, which was evident at the beginning was wearing off now. The Defence against the Dark Arts had always been a demanding position and it was now draining the last of Potter's interest. Would he even want stay for next year, Severus wondered sometimes. Hogwarts needed him and as a headmaster so did Severus. But as a man, constantly seeing someone he wished to hold in his arms, but was not allowed to, was a new level of pain, something not even Severus was used to. Physical and mental anguish, losing his friends, being frowned upon and hated was nothing new, not even from Potter. Merlin forbid, Potter had hated him for many years, there had even been a time when he was used to the angry, burning gaze. But things had changed since that damn war. Potter was not the brash boy anymore, not his father's son, not just a puppet, a curious imbecile, or someone he needed to protect. Potter became his own person, someone fundamentally interesting, loyal to the core, kind, and forgiving and maybe sometimes naïve, but just and trustworthy.

Someone Severus was in love with.

Someone who hated Severus at the moment.

That was his luck, just as always. First Lily, now her son. He managed to push away both of them, chase them into the arms of someone kinder, more handsome, more famous and more… everything. Lily was slightly bit easier to accept, though it hurt to see his friend turn away from him and all but run to James Potter.

But his love for Potter was different. It was not just the innocent friendship, the strong connection he had felt for the kind, flaming haired girl. These feelings were many and different in intensity but added together they created this burning, fiery sensation in the pit of his stomach. Wild desire, a strong urge to please, to earn respect, need of companionship, understanding, a sense of belonging. Some of these emotions were only a nagging, they were the quiet wind in his mind. However the others, so fierce, those made the thunder and lightning, the heavy rain of the storm in his heart.

What was he supposed to do now? Watch as Potter got further away from him? Fight for him? Show Potter that, just as Ettore, he, too could bring him pleasure?

As if Hogwarts wanted to help him make a decision, roaming the corridors he came upon a door, which generally was not there. It was past midnight, no child would wish for a door that could be seen by a teacher, and not many professors had known about this one particular secret of the castle. He lay his hand on the knob and after a moment of considering the situation he turned the handle of the door of the Room of Requirement.

He pushed the door open and found himself on the same balcony he and Potter had stood once. It had happened only some two months ago, yet it seemed eons now, as he watched the silent, dark figure, who leant against the iron railing. The moon this time was covered again by heavy black clouds, and no matter how hard the wind worked, it could not carry them away on its back. Night remained dark without the moonlight, but seeing Potter seemed to have lighted up Severus' heart.

Severus leaned back against the wall and let his eyes just rest and take in the young man.

Potter did not notice him, or if he did, he did not show it. He was motionless and deeply in his thoughts. The playful April wind tore at his cloak wildly. The black material lapped around the lithe body, twisting around long legs. The wind however managed to regulate the unruly hair at least. Even if for only short moments, but it straightened it as it skated through the black mane. It was cold, yet Potter's sleeves were tucked up. His skin was covered with goose bumps.

Severus longed to pull him close and warm him up, but he did not move, afraid that he would startle the young man like a wild creature and he would leave.

"You can come closer, you know," said Potter, the wind carrying away his voice.

Severus did move, feeling slightly caught. For how long did Potter know he was there? From the start? And just how long did Severus stare at Potter? Was it only a moment or long minutes?

He rested his elbows on the iron as well, while he watched the dark ground beneath them. He would not look at Potter.

"I always come here when I want to think…" remarked his Defence professor and some time ago, Severus would have reacted to that with a playful comment about Potter and thinking. But now, he just kept silent.

"It's calm up here."

Severus was still not sure what to say to that, but he nodded, not feeling in the least calm. But Potter must not know that.

Potter sighed deeply and Severus could see as he shook his head in resignation, before he turned around.

"What brought you here now?" He asked quickly, not willing to let this moment go yet. It had been more than a month since he had talked to Potter and it pained him to admit, but he missed the young man.

Potter watched him for a second but Severus did not look back at him; he kept his gaze on the darkness around them, seeing nothing.

"I am to be a godfather. Hermione is pregnant."

Severus could not help the smile that twisted his lips. Weasley must be freaking out – to be a father at his age and state of mind, he was barely a man himself. Granger had surely gone through half the Ministry's library on wizarding pregnancies by now. Or all of it, knowing the girl.

"I know it's not a big thing."

"It is," Severus answered surprised. He finally looked at Potter to see if he was serious. "To be a godfather…" Through his shirt he touched the silver necklace on his chest. "It is a great responsibility if one takes the duty seriously. You will be the child's guardian."

"I have no idea how to do that," Potter laughed frustrated. "I can hardly take care of myself. As you know."

Severus let out a huff as a sign of his agreement. "You will grow up to the task as so many have before you."

They were quiet for a few moments and Severus started to believe this was it, their conversation was finished, and his time with Potter had ended.

But then, "You and Draco… How was that?"

"Hard," Severus said earnestly. "He grew up under his father's influence. He always got what he wanted, and he was used to it. Then, when he turned eleven, you taught him, the world was not there to serve him. Whatever you were, the greatest weapon of the light, or the next dark lord, we did not know it then, you turned his friendship down and you became everything he was supposed to be, according to his expectations. Famous, loved, adored. He became hard to handle after that. I could relate to his feelings, yet I could not help him without revealing too much. I failed him as his mentor, as a friend and as his godfather as well."

"You didn't," Potter said kindly. His hand moved and Severus' heart leaped but it was only the railing Potter grasped in the end. "I know about the Unbreakable Vow. And it was you who asked for his punishment to be in Hogwarts, under your watch, instead of Azkaban."

The words warmed Severus' heart and calmed the storm slightly. "Maybe you are correct."

Potter grinned, "I'm always correct."

Severus reached under his shirt and pulled out the necklace. He dragged it over his head and handed it to Potter. He made sure not to pay attention to their fingers touching as the silver exchanged hands, but Potter's hand was cold and he could not help but let his fingertips brush the smooth palm softly.

"What's this?" Potter asked, his thumb running over the silver circle of the medal.

"It has been a tradition in the Malfoy family to give a token to the godfather or the godmother on the naming day. It is to remind them of the responsibility they take upon when they swear to take care of a Malfoy. If anything happens to the parents, it is the godparent who is to raise the child, not a blood relative. If anything happened to Lucius and Narcissa, it was I, a half-blood, who would have raised Draco. To say the least, I was very honoured when they had asked me."

"Wait is this…is this a snake?" Potter asked thoughtful, drawing the medal closer to his eyes to see it more clearly in the dark.

"That is an Ouroboros. A snake eating its own tail. It is an ancient symbol of the circle of life." Severus answered.

"And what does that mean?"

Green eyes connected with his and Severus was hit by its force. It had been so long since those eyes were free of hatred when looking at him. He bathed in the curious gaze as he explained.

"Life is not a line; it is a circle and as such, it has no beginning, or end. You are born, you live, you die, but as you do so, you influence others and others influence you. Lucius gave me this, so that I would remember, that though my life has its own circle, there is a greater ring. Draco's and mine got joined when I promised to take care of him. My life influenced Draco's greatly, but later on, his choices set my destiny as well."

Potter scanned Severus with an intense glare, his thumb still stroking the snake.

Slowly, his lips turned up into a smile. "In other words, raise the kid well, because his stupidity later on can bite you in the ass."

Severus laughed and Potter's eyes seemed to have shined even brighter. "Quiet right, Mr Potter."

With a crooked grin on his face, Potter held out the silver medal on the middle of his palm for Severus to take it back. Severus, however, shook his head and took the hand in his, before he closed Potter's fingers around the snake with a gentle touch. "You need it more than I do," he held on to the hand between his for only a moment longer. Potter's gaze seemed to have darted panicking between obsidian eyes and their joined hands then settled in the middle, on Severus' lips.

Not daring to read more into it, Severus let go immediately and stepped away. He felt weirdly naked without the necklace he used to wear for twenty-five years. "It is getting late," he said quickly, then turned to leave.

"Snape, wait…" came the hesitant call.

He could feel his heartbeat in his throat as he turned halfway back. "Yes?"

"We are invited to another fundraiser. A silent auction at Coco Baron's on St George's Day. Will you come?"

"Coco Baron?"

"Ettore's aunt. He invited us. Draco as well. Hermione's coming too. And Ron, maybe," Potter said all too quickly. "You should come as well. There will be a silent auction and Mrs Baron will give away most of the raised gold, like last time. Hogwarts is on her list again."

"I am not-" Severus started to refuse the offer but Potter cut in.

"Ettore won't be there probably, and Hermione will be… well… pregnant and busy with all the paying people. Ron doesn't really want to come. I promised to go, but I don't want to go alone. Please come… with me. I'll die there alone."

Severus let out a resigned sigh. "We will see, Mr Potter."

"Snape!"

He was already at the door when the second cry forced his legs to halt again. "Yes, Mr Potter?"

"Thanks," came the quiet answer.

He left, smiling. The storm had finally pacified.

**o.O.o**

"I really like what you have done with the place!" Hermione shouted from his bedroom.

Harry had seen six versions of the Defence Professor's office during his time as a student, yet never realized there was a door leading to the private chamber. Or maybe it was just charmed to stay hidden from students…

His office did not look anything special, but it did resemble Remus'. As he worked with many creatures and the creatures needed to be kept somewhere, they were usually in his office. He took some trinkets with him as well, when he moved in, things that stuck on him after he broke the curse on them. They were mostly useless, but somehow he had grown to like them. His personal chamber were devoid of magical creatures, but was filled with books on the Dark Arts he had collected during his travels and from Grimmauld Place. Which explained why Hermione liked the place. Other than that, it was almost bare. No personal items showed who lived here and the furniture was regular; the same at every professor's. Even his bedroom was bare, except some of the novels he sometimes read before going to bed and his clothes that generally lied scattered around.

He watched the door, waiting for his best friend to finally come out. Hermione had been in there for about an hour, getting ready for the party. Harry had invited her to his rooms at Hogwarts so that they could go together from here. They chatted and shared a bottle of wine, as she picked out Harry's outfit for the night, before she would chose her own. They kept on talking as Harry dressed and they didn't stop even when Hermione took the bedroom to change. Chatting with the girl brought back fond memories and helped Harry greatly in alleviating his anxiousness. He still didn't have any news on whether Snape was coming along or not.

"Thanks," He shouted back from his favourite chair, twirling a glass of chardonnay between his fingers. "If you see something familiar, it might be yours. I keep forgetting giving you back yo-" He quieted suddenly as he heard a weird noise from the bedroom. He stood quickly and skidded closer. "Hermione? Are you alright?"

The weird sound repeated itself, and Harry was now certain that it was a sob, though the young witch wanted to repress it.

He opened the door slowly. "Hermione, I'm coming in. What's going on? Is everything okay?"

She was standing in front of the mirror, dressed up, looking perfect. One of her hands rested on her belly that had already started to swell slightly. The change was almost unperceivable when she was wearing robes and her usual clothes under, but this dress seem to highlight it.

Her make-up, which she had worked on the last half an hour, was a mess as her tears streamed down on her face. She smiled weakly. "I'm so sorry…"

"Hey, are you okay?" Harry asked gently, going closer, standing behind her, looking at her through the mirror.

She sobbed again, but nodded. Harry tenderly embraced her from behind. "What happened? Are you feeling sick? Madam Pomfrey could help, I'm sure."

Weakly, she only said, "I'm pregnant."

Harry laughed. "You and Ron both have a habit of realising things at the weirdest moments. You've been pregnant for more than two months now, 'Mione."

"There's _someone_ in here." She caressed her belly, which wasn't flat anymore. He slowly placed his hand on hers. "Yes, there is. And you both look radiant, Hermione. Absolutely beautiful."

"Liar," she laughed faintly, then turned around in his arms and buried her head in the crook of Harry's neck. "I can't do this, Harry!" She cried now in earnest. "I can't be… a mother… not yet… I can't… I wanted… oh Harry…"

Harry stirred her to the bed and softly made Hermione sit. Holding her hands, he kneeled between her legs. "What do you mean? You don't want to keep it?" He asked, feeling horrified inside.

"Of course I want it," she sniffed. "It's just… oh Harry… I'm so selfish but… but I had plans. And so did Ron, and I'm trying so hard to make everything good, but I can't… I can't… I'll have to quit work, and raise a child and no matter how many books I read, they don't tell me how to do both, and how to be a good mother." Her voice trailed off but she added faintly, "I'm so scared…"

"Have you talked to Ron about this?"

Her cries turned even more desperate. "I can't! He would hate me… He would think I'm horrible for wanting to work… His mom… Molly… I can't stay home the rest of my life, like she did. I'm so horrible. I don't even have the baby yet, but I'm already a terrible mother…"

"Merlin, Hermione, you're not terrible!" Harry stated, hugging her swiftly. "Ron would understand. But you need to talk to him about this."

"No, he wouldn't… He wants so many children, and he really loves being an Auror and… and… I'm so sorry."

"Hermione," Harry said strictly and waited until the brown, tear-filled eyes turned on him. "You are not a bad person, Hermione, and definitely not a bad mother just because you are ambitious and want to work after the baby is born." When she looked down again, he gripped her hand more tightly. "Listen to me, Hermione. You are not Molly Weasley, no one expects you to be, not even Ron. And by the way, he's freaking out about this as much as you. This isn't fair on him, you know. You have to be honest with him, tell him how you feel and what you want. He will understand and if he doesn't, just send him to me. Or to Molly."

Hermione laughed feebly. "He's scared, too?"

"You didn't notice?"

"He seemed so happy, so confident…"

"He _is_ happy. Everyone is happy, but that doesn't mean, we aren't worried. Even I am about being godfather and all I have to do is buy the kid cool gifts and be the awesome Uncle Harry he needs when you two are too strict. It's a little human, Hermione, you ought to be a bit scared. But you're not alone in this. If you want to go back to work, Ron can take care of the baby, or I'm sure Molly would be happy to help, or your folks, maybe. I'd be happy to take care of it-"

"Her," Hermione breathed softly. "The Healer told me yesterday. I read they can tell earlier than with Muggle pregnancies and asked the Healer and she said… she said… it's a girl."

Harry smiled brightly. "You're having a daughter, Hermione." He poked Hermione' belly kindly, grinning. "You got a little girl in there."

"I'll have a daughter," Hermione repeated, staring at her own belly mesmerized. Tears streamed from her eyes again, but the shadows of sadness seemed to have disappeared.

"Ron wanted a daughter; he told me when he said you're expecting."

"He did?" She looked up, her hand caressing her stomach.

"Yes. But even if it were a boy, he would love it as much as one possibly can. Hermione, he's been madly in love with you since probably the first moment he had seen you on the Hogwarts Express. Talk to him. You know he's an idiot but he would listen to you and the two of you will work this out, I'm certain."

Hermione nodded then swiped off his tears with the back of his hand.

Harry stood up and rested a hand on her shoulder. "How about you lay back now and rest a bit. I'll fire call Ron. You stay here and let Madam Pomfrey check you out. The elves will take care of you, bring you food and drink. And you and Ron will talk this over, either now, or in the morning. But _you_ will stay here and rest, okay?"

She sniffed, then smiled timidly. Harry conjured a handkerchief for her. She blew her nose then nodded and lay back on her back.

Harry nodded too. "I'll go get Ron and Madam Pomfrey."

Ron came through the fireplace the moment Harry uttered the words _Hermione_ and _anxious_. The redhead all but pushed through Harry and was almost immediately by Hermione's side. Harry meanwhile called the matron. She came through as well, shaking her head and mumbling something about stress and pregnancy.

Harry watched from the door as she examined the young mother, while Ron sat next to her. After some poking and casting diagnostic spells, she conjured some potions and thrust them into Hermione's still slightly trembling hands. A cheerful looking little elf appeared and brought some food and pumpkin juice for Hermione and when she drunk everything, Ron finally let go of her and went out to Harry.

"Madam Pomfrey says, she's okay, just a bit low on some vitamins. The baby's okay too." He grinned shyly then as he added in a slightly croaked, but proud voice. "My _daughter_ is okay."

Harry patted him on the back. "There's plenty you two need to talk about, but perhaps it would be best leaving it to the morning. I'm sure Perky there," Harry pointed at the small elf who was still idling around, humming quietly which seemed to have calmed Hermione even more, "would be more than happy to change the sheets and get you towels and whatnots."

"We don't want to-"

Harry made Ron shut up with a look he had learned from Hermione. "You know you are welcomed here. Always." He stated.

"Where will you stay?"

"I'll come up with something," answered Harry reassuringly.

"Harry!" They heard Hermione's cry from the room. Harry leaned against the doorframe, while Ron went to sit next to her again. "You're still going, right?" Not waiting for the answer, she went on. "You need to. Someone has to represent Hogwarts if Snape's not going, and you have to tell Mrs Baron why I'm not there. Tell her I'm terribly sorry. I was looking forward to this event actually."

Harry smiled, "I'll take care of everything, don't worry. I'll charm their last Knut off them." He winked, then grabbed his suit jacket. He had one more trip to make, before he could Apparate to Mrs Baron's.

He draped the jacket across his arm as he walked on the corridors. "Dumbledore," he said to the old stone gargoyle which had opened to the same word in the last seven years.

"Looking fancy," the Gargoyle remarked as it moved away.

Unsure of what to say, Harry simply thanked it and then swiftly moved up the twisting stairs, taking two at a time. He knocked rapidly on the heavy door.

He still didn't know what to expect when it came to Snape. If he did sleep with Ettore and he wanted more, he should be eager to come along. If he didn't then this party would give plenty of reason and occasions to do it now. Yet Snape seemed reluctant when he had asked. Just what did happen between Snape and Ettore? Could he misinterpret the scene he had witnessed? No way, Ettore was sucking on Snape's cock. He did see it; fuck, just thinking about it made his heart twist in pain and his cock fill up with blood. He hated that a part of his mind thought Snape and Ettore were hot. He absolutely hated it. But they were. Snape in _Severus_ , muscles tensing, Ettore on his knees… _Fuck_.

He was hard. And the real Snape stood in the door in casual elegance. Shiny shoes, black suit, tailored robes, intense expression. Shirt unbuttoned, tie undone. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Harry knew exactly what was under that white shirt. He was painfully aware of it. And he also knew just how unavailable that was to him. Every inch of naked skin. Not his. Ettore's. More likely. _Fuck_.

"So… you're coming?"

"I thought you already left," Snape admitted, buttoning his shirt up.

When he corrected his tie, Harry almost undid it, tore it off even. His heart ached for this man, but that wasn't the only part. Given the chance… he would do anything Snape asked him. To hell with words like loyalty. What he wanted was to take Snape's hard cock in his mouth and suck it. Drive it deeper in, then lick the whole shaft. Taste his come, hold his balls. Let Snape fuck his mouth. What he wanted was to ride the man; watch his face as Harry sunk down on his cock, drawing it deeper inside his tight arse. Watch him come. Watch him in ecstasy. See him uncontrolled. Loyalty was nice, but all this… all this seemed even nicer.

He cleared his throat, in a useless attempt to pull himself together. "Hermione decided to skip the dinner. She feels a bit off. I was with here, but Ron's here now. She needs a bit of rest so I told them they can stay in my room." Snape looked taken aback for a moment after that sentence so Harry added, "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," the man reacted right away. "The child?"

"She's okay."

Snape moved inside his office, leaving the door open. Unsure, Harry followed. It had been more than two months, since he had last been here. In fact, it was the day he introduced Snape and Ettore. Oh great, more nice memories, just what he needed.

A half empty bottle of scotch was on the table, next to it a tumbler, almost empty. Crumbles of the red wax of the seal dotted the table next to the crystal glass. Did Snape just drink half a bottle of scotch? And just why would he do that right before they were to go to a fancy dinner party? Was it because he thought Harry had already left? Without him? Ridiculous.

Snape pulled off a big blue box from one of the shelves, then froze mid-motion. "She?"

Harry looked up confused for a moment then understanding dawned on him and he smiled brightly. "Yeah. It's a she."

"Congratulations," Snape said softly, and Harry could swear there was even a tiny little smile on his lips as well, before he turned back to the blue box and opened it. He pulled out a pink vial. "Did you leave an elf with them?"

"Perky," answered Harry and the next moment the giddily smiling elf appeared in the office accompanied with a loud bang.

"Professor Harry Potter, Headmaster Severus Snape, did you call for Perky?" She asked in a bright melodic tone.

"Take this to Miss Granger. Tell her to drink half of it now and the second half tomorrow. It should help with the morning sickness for at least a week. I will make another batch later. Make sure she rests plenty after digesting it."

The little elf took the glass vial and was gone the next moment. Harry watched Snape intently. "Why do you keep potions here for morning sickness?"

Snape arched an eyebrow, then rolled his eyes. "I am not pregnant, if that is what you are thinking."

Harry let out a relieved sigh. "I knew that. So why?"

"One of my best Defence teachers was with child. I tried to make her pregnancy as smooth as possible while she was with us. And before you ask, the potion was sealed and preserved; it was as fresh as on the day I brewed it."

"No doubt," Harry breathed feeling incredibly grateful. "Thanks," he said, knowing perfectly that that single one word wouldn't convey just how much he appreciated that Snape took care of his best friend.

"Do not mention it," Snape answered nonchalantly, waving his wand and making the scotch and the glass vanish. "Shall we?" he asked then.

Harry opened the door. "Let's get some more gold for Hogwarts."


	10. Chapter Nine: The Tree House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini dictionary: zia - aunt / mio amore - my love / papá - dad / padre - father / polizia - police / magico - magical / mio diletto - my darling / mi dispiace - I'm sorry / spirito - spirit /

**Chapter Nine: The Tree House**

**o.O.o**

The beauty of the estate still surprised Harry. It was brightly lit, even the front yard, so that people would not have any troubles finding their way inside. Not that it would be hard, given the entrance was a two-winged door, right on top of huge marble stairs. House elves, wearing crispy, baby blue pillow cases with an emblem of intricate ' _CB_ ' initials over their heart, welcomed the guests. Harry was slightly surprised to see so many familiar faces. Kingsley, the Minister for Magic was present, his booming voice was the first thing Harry had noticed upon stepping through the threshold with Snape right after him. Many older faces he had recognized from the Wizengamot; their presence seemed to have made Snape slightly anxious, however after a while, he mingled with them rather easily. There was however someone, who did not show up. Ettore was kept in Italy, it seemed.

The last time Harry had been here, he didn't have an occasion to talk to Coco Baron, as their host had been rather busy enjoying the charity auction in the backrooms. Now, however the lady wanted to compensate him for their time lost and had spent almost all evening dallying around Harry as if he would be the most amusing sight in her home.

Mrs Baron, who insisted on being called Coco regardless her age, or rather _especially_ for that reason, must have been not a day older than seventy, or so she claimed. Some of her friends kept reminding her and everyone who listened to her, that she kept saying that in the last decade or so.

Harry had found Coco rather charming, all in all. She was a bright character, chatty, the soul of the party. Once, she must have been a beauty, however not much remained of her former glory, only perhaps her eyes, that were, just like Ettore's, blue as the ocean on a sunny day. She was chubby, her cheeks pink, and her hair pure white, long and curly. This evening, she was wearing blue roses in it, which matched her light blue robes. Snape wondered half aloud, so that only Harry could hear him, whether she dressed for the elves or the elves were dressed to match her style.

She had been a widower for five years, when her husband had died in an Apparating accident. He was a man, who liked two things in life: betting and drinking. One could say, and Coco certainly did, that Mr Baron died, doing what he liked. One evening, during a party, similar to the one Harry was visiting, Mr Baron was drunk and made a bet that he could, indeed, apparate outside the country. He managed, winning the bet, and with it a glorious renaissance painting from Johannes Van Hoytl The Younger*. Unfortunately, he somehow miscalculated his destination and appeared somewhere in the North Sea. Boy with Apple*, the previously mentioned painting, had been handed to Coco, who had cherished it ever since, and made it the centre piece of the main dining room.

Coco entertained Harry with stories of her niece during dinner. As it turned out, Ettore's mother had died when he was only two and his father had been a successful entrepreneur, both in the muggle and the wizarding world. Ettore therefore was mostly left here, with Coco, who had raised him into the fine man he was now. Coco took great pleasure in Ettore and his vivid imagination when it came to fashion. She was proud to say, she was the only one who could inspire the Italian without bedding him. Almost every year, he came out with a set, he created for ladies like Coco.

"He was a shy child, would you believe?" Coco said as they sat in the dining room, the table crumbling under the weight of all the food. She had none of Ettore's accent, however she lived most of her life in England, while Ettore had moved back to Italy when he became seventeen. "Quiet and distant."

"Impossible," Harry laughed. He couldn't imagine Ettore as anything even remotely shy.

"Oh indeed," Coco nodded seriously, grasping a goblet and washing down the juicy beef with a gulp of red wine. "Up until his father had passed away at least. He had been fourteen, and became fierce after the dreadful event. He had a small affair with a married man and then the wife. Quiet the scandal. Luckily, they were at least Muggles."

"Now, _that_ Ettore I do know," Harry giggled.

"After he went back to Italy, only seventeen, my dear boy, and all alone, I have heard almost as much about his success in fashion as I did on his success with men and women. He's only ever becomes serious when he's married, otherwise, he's as fierce as twenty years ago."

"And just why on earth would I change, _Zia_ Coco?" Said a voice at the door Harry immediately recognized. "You love me the way I am, do you not?"

"Ettore, my dearest!" Coco cried, standing up. The huge, long table quieted, all fifty guests watched the handsome man who stepped in the room to welcome his Aunt.

Ettore hurried to the old lady and hugged her happily, smiling as he buried his head in her white hair. "Your beauty has not faded since the day I have last seen you, my dear Aunt. In fact you become more gorgeous by every day." Ettore nodded towards Harry and Severus before he went on with a teasing smile. "If I am not careful enough you charm away my friends, _Zia_ Coco!"

Ettore went around the table and greeted all the guests by name, apologising for being late. Soon the chatter around the dining room resumed, and the Italian finally reached Coco's end, where Severus and Harry sat as well.

First he said hello to Snape, laying a hand on his back, inquiring about the matters of school. Harry's fingers involuntarily tightened around the cutlery, but no one seemed to have noticed. Then he arrived to Harry.

"Nothing can make me happier than seeing you in my childhood home, Harry," he smiled, placing both his hands on Harry's shoulders. He leaned closer before he whispered, "Well, there is of course seeing you in the Library, but we shall get back to that later on."

Harry smiled, timidly, and turned towards where the arousing accent was coming from. "I'm glad you could make it, Ettore." He pointed at the food as he said with a grin, "Sit and eat. I want to hear more about shy and quiet Ettore."

Serafini laughed, throatily, his head falling back. "I can be quiet and shy, if that is what you want, _mio amore_."

Coco shifted at the head of the table and, summoning a chair, gave place for Ettore. "Sit now, my child. I must hear about your new show. It is in May, right? Eat, darling, you must be famished."

Blue eyes turned to Harry as Ettore took his place next to his Aunt. "Oh, _Zia_ Coco, I am hungry for one thing only but, I am afraid that is not up to you to serve me."

**o.O.o**

The stories of Ettore's childhood made Harry see the Italian in quite a new light. There was more to Ettore than he first believed. He watched him as he complained to Coco about a show he would make in May and then, Ettore seemed more like a man than Harry had ever seen him. A serious business man with many problems regarding his work, not just a charmer suddenly, and Harry wondered just how many faces Ettore had. And which was the truest? Was it the easy-going, flirty Italian, the almost brutal lover, who would whip Malfoy and all the others, or the compliant man so eager to please Snape? Was it the ruthless fashion designer, who talked about models as accessories to his designs or perhaps the artist, who still found pleasure in the process of creation after years and years of attacks, jealousy and rivalry? Or perhaps, deep inside, he was still that quiet and shy child, Coco had talked about?

Harry hid his smile, looking down on his dessert. Then he realized he was wondering about Ettore Serafini and his heart leapt. This was the first time he thought about Ettore as more than just a gorgeous body. He was becoming more and more interested in the man. He chanced a glance on him, but became soon mesmerized.

Ettore was sitting with his legs crossed, looking comfortable leaning back against the back of his chair. The top buttons of his dark, greyish knitted cardigan was undone, beneath which his black shirt was showing. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed between two sentences, but his hands in the air didn't stop for even a moment. He was explaining something, Harry did not hear what, but he knew it was something the Italian loved, his enthusiasm was clear on his face. Coco replied and Ettore laughed, before lifting his glass of red wine to his lips. Laughter lines appeared on the handsome face, making it even more attractive. Blue eyes still smiling, Ettore gulped down the Amarone, his gaze meanwhile shifting towards Harry. When their eyes connected, Ettore's smile became softer and warmer and the ocean blue pools all but caressed Harry's soul. Ettore turned back to his Aunt, who was talking again, and Harry looked away quickly, feeling somehow guilty.

He felt the burning gaze on him and looked to his other side. Snape was watching him with intense obsidian eyes and a grim expression. He dapped his napkin to his lips and stood, marching away without a single word. Harry watched him go, wondering. Was Snape jealous? Did he want back to the Italian? Could it be that one night was not enough for Snape? Snape made it clear on the day of the photo-shoot who he fancied more, and it wasn't Harry he made to kneel before him, in the end.

Yet, Harry stood from the table and excused himself quietly. He rushed to the next room and marched past the many priceless items that were on auction, not even noticing them. He stopped only when he reached the main hall and looked around, but his king was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, he searched for a door that would lead towards the backyard. He needed some fresh air, some time to sort through these confusing feelings.

"To your left," said a voice behind him and Harry turned around to find Ettore leaning against the door frame pointing at another door. "You can go out through the drawing room."

Harry took a deep breath, before he asked, "Would you like to join?"

"Of course," Ettore answered with a soft, half smile.

He opened the two winged door for Harry and they walked through one of the smaller drawing rooms of the house. The glass doors to the garden were kept open during the evening for some of the guests who liked smoking. An older woman and two middle aged wizards were idling outside with cigars in their hands, chattering. Ettore exchanged a couple of words with them, followed by a polite smile and the next moment, he was leading Harry on the winding path with a hand on Harry's waist.

White stones in the dark grass made the trail, but Coco made sure to make it visible, so every couple of steps torches were pinned into the ground to show them the way.

All of a sudden, Ettore turned to Harry with a conspiratorial smile and asked, "May I show you something, Harry?"

Hoping that it wouldn't be the all too famous Library, Harry nodded. Ettore took his hand and Harry felt a sudden warmness and awful twist in his stomach. The next second, the twist was gone, Ettore was closer and warmness turned into blazing. He looked up at Ettore who was smiling down at him with perfect white teeth, all sharp, protruding cheekbones and bright eyes. Then he stepped away, making a half circle with his hand, showing Harry the new scenery.

The moment Harry realized where they were, he panicked slightly and grasped into Ettore more tightly. He looked down, suspecting that it was a bad idea. Indeed it was. The tree they were standing on was so tall, he couldn't see the ground in the dark. The tree was at least thirty feet high, perhaps even higher given the darkness.

They seemed to be standing on what was supposed to be a tree house one day, but remained sadly unfinished. The planks under their feet were covered in dirt, leaves and moss. Some branches had found their way through the small gaps which were now covered in small, fresh sprouts.

"What is this place?" Harry asked astonished as his gaze followed Ettore's.

The floodlit mansion in the distance looked old and menacing with its many shadows, yet the bright windows seemed inviting and warm. The winding, path they were walking on only minutes earlier formed a diamond when seen from above. The flat top of the gem was right at the feet of the huge house, while the other sharp tip lead to a big pond. Their tree was on the right edge of the black water, somewhere at the corner of the estate, providing an excellent view of Ettore's childhood home.

"My sanctuary," answered the Italian sitting down on the moss covered wood, his legs dangling in the air. "I used to come up here as a child. My father started building this place for me between his travels."

The tree house's state of incompleteness was now even more saddening. Harry grasped Ettore's shoulder, then sat down as well.

"I thought of finishing it up many times, but somehow I could not bring myself to it. We worked on it together and finishing it alone felt somehow weird. But I still love this place regardless its state."

"The view is amazing from here."

"I loved coming up here. It was my fortress. No one knew about it just _papá_ and me. I would spend the afternoons up on these wonky planks and design outfits until I ran out of free space on the parchment or ink."

"I never would have pictured you as a shy kid," Harry laughed. "What happened to that child?"

Ettore smirked and lowering his voice, he said, "He lost his innocence."

Harry looked away quickly, the warmness in his stomach growing again.

"After my father died, I became close to Claus, our neighbour," Ettore explained, pointing behind their backs. "He was married and I was young. A lot of people blamed him for what happened, but in truth it was I who seduced him."

"You were underage, he shouldn't have touched you."

"He saw me as more than a child and I needed that those times. Why, can you always control your heart?"

Harry looked at the Ettore, but thought of Snape as he answered, "Not in the least."

Ettore chuckled and his accent suddenly became heavier. "I could talk to him about things I have never told p _apá_. That I fancied men as much as women was one of those things. He was the one who told me that was perfectly normal, who encouraged me to follow my desires in fashion instead of taking over _padre's_ company. Many people were ready to judge him, but I will always be grateful for him. He taught me many things."

"Such as?"

"Honesty above all, for example, was one of his sayings. Isabella, Claus' wife, had known about us from the beginning. She did not mind, as she was certain Claus loved her more than me."

"Was she wrong?"

"Very," Ettore sighed. "But she realized it sooner than I did. She lied to Claus that I kissed her and wanted to lie with her. I was almost of age by that time. Claus did not believe her which angered her even more. She had exposed our relationship. Luckily _Zia_ Coco could handle the _polizia._ The lies however had already tainted our relationship. I went to Italy, while he stayed here in England. Claus made me promise that I will not be sad and experience life. He believed that life was something wonderful, something _magico_. I grew up to resemble him more than _mio padre_ in nature. Padre had been strict and distant usually, while Claus always had a smile for me."

Even after the man stopped talking, Harry just kept staring at him. Ettore was scratching the plank between his legs, elbows resting on his knees. Somehow, he completely fitted in the scenery, though a tree house wasn't a place Harry had ever imagined Ettore to be happy. Serafini smiled ruefully as he looked aside to Harry.

"Do you judge me now?" He asked softly. "Do you think less of me now that you know I have made an older man fall for me? Broken up a marriage?"

"It's not my place to judge you, Ettore," sighed Harry. "I'm starting to realize I have no idea who you are."

Ettore laughed again, leaning back on his hands, eyes twinkling. "Ask then, _mio bello_. What do you wish to know?"

Harry regarded him in the dark. "Who are you really, Ettore? And just what do you want from me?"

"I do not offer false promises, Harry. I make sure my partner knows what I want before I have sex with them. I was hurt many times and I wish not to cause harm for anyone. You know exactly what I want, Harry. I made it clear from the very beginning, did I not?"

"But why?"

"Why?" Ettore laughed again. "Because you are a remarkable, handsome young man and I love sex," he said then simply. "Is that wrong? Is it wrong, do you think? To like sex?"

Harry cleared his throat, feeling suddenly anxious. Talking about sex with Ettore could not lead anywhere good. "Liking sex isn't the problem here…"

"No, your problem is that I am more straightforward about it than most men, is it not? Would you rather I buy you dinner and take you out weekly? Would you rather I assure you that I am a gentleman and I do not think of you in my bed when I am alone? Would you rather have the lies?"

"Isn't that how people usually do it?" Asked Harry hesitantly.

"Do you always do things how others do it?" Ettore asked back smugly.

Harry shook his head. "Well, I wouldn't say so…"

"Look, _mio bello_ , in my world, you need to be honest about what you want. You cannot say, oh yes, that salmon belt goes rather good with the orange dress. No, you say it is awful, take that away from my eyes. I am used to this honesty, so are the people around me. And I expect the same. That is why Draco had hurt me. I was clear with my intensions, he was not."

"I thought you two… What did he do?"

"Harry… let me ask, do you know what I want to do to you?"

Harry gulped feeling rather hot all of a sudden although the April air wasn't all that warm yet. "I have a suspicion."

A half smile crossed Ettore's lush lips. "Say it, Harry, no need to be shy," said the Italian with his spine tingling accent.

Harry hesitated for a moment, then thought, what the hell. "You want to sleep with me."

"Sleep?" Ettore laughed. "How modest. I want to fuck you, Harry. But that is not the whole truth. I want to do much more to you than that, Harry. I want a night with you. A whole night when I can give you pleasure. When I can give you everything I have to offer. Just one night," Ettore sighed softly and looked at the dark house. "That is not what I offered to Draco."

"You asked… for more than one night?"

"I offered more. I offered Italy to him. I offered my heart to him. I told him, be free with me, _mio Drago_."

"And he said no?"

"He said yes. At least that night. The next morning however, his heart changed. I cannot be angry. He is loyal to Severus and I understand that. But I am sad and hurt."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Do not be, Harry. He gave me memories I will not forget for years to come. Memories, _amore_ , are sustenance to the soul. It does not matter if the memory is about one night or a year or a life time. As long as it is a happy one, it will be uplifting to your soul."

Mouth dry and fidgeting slightly, Harry asked, "Is that what you offer? An uplifting experience?"

"I offer sex, Harry. Will it be uplifting? Who knows…? I will certainly make sure to do my best."

Ettore turned towards Harry and leaned closer. The young man couldn't take his eyes off the handsome face as it moved closer and closer. Soon, Harry was lying on the old planks, the wood beneath him softened by the moss and leaves. Above him blue eyes glinted darkly, black fire burned in them. Then Ettore moved his soft lips to his ear and the fire moved from the Italian's eyes straight to Harry's crotch.

"I could give you so much pleasure," Ettore whispered close to Harry's ear, his voice low and heavy with his accent. "I could touch you with my hands, stoke you until you are hard. I could lick you wet, lick you needy. I could push my tongue inside you and make you ready for me."

Harry groaned, grasping into the knitted pullover. He tucked up a leg and shifted, trying to push closer to Ettore, but the wizard moved away.

He looked Harry dead in the eyes and ever so slowly pushed down his erection to Harry's hardening cock. "I could bury this inside you, make you feel every inch," he said with a deep voice. The blue eyes closed and next Harry felt soft, velvety lips on his. Ettore kissed slow and gentle, his mouth moved against Harry's like butterfly wings, and he could even feel the small scar, where the soft skin was slightly rougher. Something wet suddenly caressed his lower lip and Harry moaned, lips parting. Against his better judgement, he wanted to kiss back, but Ettore moved away by then. Standing up, he pulled Harry to his feet as well and grasped his hand. "I will let you think about my offer. I will be back after my show in May, we talk then," promised the Italian, before he Apparated them back in the house.


	11. Chapter Ten: If Books Could Speak

**Chapter Ten: If Books Could Speak**

**o.O.o**

The night was clean and filled with the scents of spring. Blooming flowers, warm stone, freshly cut grass; it was a heavy mix, almost dizzying as Severus breathed it in. The garden beneath him was vast, even so in the darkness. Many torches lit the small winding path, couples and smaller groups of people strolled on it, some quietly, listening to the many noises of the night, while some were harsh and loud, laughing, and talking lively. Not many of the voices reached him up where he was but he could hear teasers of chuckles and cries of astonishment.

He wondered if Potter and Ettore were down there, wandering in the dark. Or perhaps they had already moved things to the bedroom…

Unbelievable, his luck, really. First Granger stayed away and not just stayed away but borrowed Potter's room. He could have offered a place for Potter to spend the night. He wanted to, Merlin how much he did. But he thought, later on, he would let them get familiar again, warm up to each other, so that any previous enmity would sink to oblivion. And he had actually been successful, Potter seemed less and less tense next to him. Even if it was because of the expensive Champagne, the green eyes looked at him shining and with a familiar teasing. The dinner was good, Mrs Baron seemed to be absolutely charmed by Potter, and Severus all but enjoyed the evening. Everything went according to plan.

Then Ettore arrived. Oh how happy everyone was.

The spicy air caressed his face as he tilted his head against the frame. The windows were opened wide to let in the fresh air and make him less inebriated. He should not think of Potter. He should not even want him. He was a headmaster for Merlin's sake, Potter's superior, his employer. Their affair would be frowned upon, both because of their persons and their work relationship. He was barely allowed to even look at his professors, not to mention start an affair with one of them. And there was the curse to consider as well. Could this be only the doing of the curse in the first place? It did start when Potter accepted the post. Even if the board just got a whiff that there was something between them, Potter, regardless his state and fame, would fly from Hogwarts sooner than he could say Snitch. Damn Hogwarts traditions. Damn rules. Damn young men who made him want to break any and all rules.

He closed his eyes and turned his face towards the garden. Every deep breath tasted of spring and mixed with the scotch he had drank in his office and the quality Champagne, it created such a heavily intoxicating sensation he soon felt more inebriated than when he had sat down on the cushioned, wide windowsill.

He almost fell out when the door opened all of a sudden and a shadow slipped in, closing it swiftly right behind it.

"Shit, shit, shit," said the shadow sounding awfully like Potter. "This isn't how it's supposed to be…"

He moved across the dark room, and plopped down behind a huge, antique desk not far from Severus, who he apparently did not notice yet.

"Shit…" Potter groaned again and even though it was pitch black in the room, Severus could make out and _hear_ as he dropped his head on the thick wood. "Fucking shit…"

That part of Severus, the more sober one, which previously insisted that even if there would be a chance for him and Potter, the regulations simply did not allow such relationship between Hogwarts' walls to exist, nagged him to speak up and call attention to his presence or better yet, jump out the window and disappear before he did something really, really wrong. The other was just curious, what on Merlin's beard was going on with Potter. Was it Ettore? Did the Italian do something? Step over a line? His hands fisted by that thought.

"Oh shit…" Potter grunted again, leaning back on the leather arm chair. "Fuck it…"

Severus watched him, only a dark silhouette in the even darker room. He knew, he should speak up already, or just move, it would not matter as long as the idiot finally noticed him. Potter must have his eyes closed, or perhaps he was drunker than Severus thought, he should have already seen Severus otherwise, as they sat almost facing each other. The old wooden desk was vertical to the window. But Potter remained oblivious and Severus did not feel like speaking up. He hoped, Potter would exit as fast as he entered, and he could return to his silent contemplating.

"Fuck them both…" Potter scoffed. Severus smiled slightly, wondering if the young man always talked to himself and swore this often.

Potter sighed. His breathing became slightly faster, Severus could clearly hear as he inhaled and exhaled through his nose.

The smile froze off Severus' face. He listened even more. It could not be…

There were some sounds one recognized right away, especially in the dark. Pulling down a zipper was one of these sounds. Severus almost fell out the window again. No way, Potter would…

"Mm, fuck…"

Severus closed his eyes and concentrated even more on the sounds that came from Potter's direction.

Soft moans, fast breathing… skin sliding on skin.

 _Bloody hell!_ Was Potter seriously jacking off in the damn Library? Damn brat! What the hell was he thinking?

"Mmm, yeah…"

Something very good, apparently. What on earth was Severus supposed to do _now_? He could not just speak up now, could he? Should he just stand and leave? He regarded the garden beneath the window; there were a lot of bushes but he could not make out what type. Jumping was out of the question; he might land on roses.

Potter meanwhile was moaning louder now, his hand making the most arousing wet sounds as it slid slowly on his cock. He seemed to be in no rush.

"Bloody Ettore…" Potter moaned and Severus tensed, his face twisting into a grimace. Then he added, "Fucking Snape…"

"Just what the hell did I do now?" The question came out more instinctively than purposefully; he pressed his hand in front of his mouth but it was too late. Something hard knocked against the heavy table, hopefully just Potter's leg, then the young man cried out in pain and surprise.

"HOLY FUCKING…! What the bloody hell! SNAPE, is that fucking you?"

"Yes," Severus drawled.

"Oh bloody hell…" Potter grunted and Severus heard the rustling of clothes.

Did Potter just put himself away? What a shame. "So, what exactly have I done?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Potter inquired tersely.

"If I am not mistaken, between the two of us, I am the one less inappropriate in being here. Did you not find a bedroom? Or at least a bathroom?"

"Oh god, you… you heard? Oh god…"

Severus was sure Potter was blushing madly now. Even though he could only imagine it, it was still a rather nice picture. "You were somewhat obvious."

"Shit! Why the fuck did you not say a word?" Potter cried indignantly, his tone filled with anger.

"And just what was I supposed to say? Go faster? Grip harder? You are the one who burst in here and slapped out your cock."

"I… I… Fuck!" Potter smacked his fist on the table. "Don't you talk to me like that! It's all your fault, anyway!"

"My fault?" Severus asked back irritated now. "How is that my fault?"

"Why did you leave me alone?" Potter asked vehemently.

"You were not alone, Potter. You were in _excellent_ hands, when I left you," he answered annoyed.

"Excellent?" Potter jeered. "Well, I guess you're right. He kisses excellently, that's for sure. But I guess you already know that."

Severus hissed rather catlike. "He kissed you?" He asked slowly.

He could hear the smirk in Potter's voice as he answered coolly, "Yes, he did. Just after he told me what exactly he wants to do with me. It was a very detailed description."

Severus knew Potter was only trying to rile him up. He also knew it was bloody working. Damn too well. He inhaled, forcing his breathing to slow down, his body to calm. "What did he tell you, Potter? That he wants to fuck you? Suck you? Which was it?" Severus asked, clutching the windowsill. He hated himself. Jealousy ate his heart out, envy clawed at his insides, anger made his voice low and dark.

Potter grunted, clearly aggravated. Severus could easily relate. "Both, actually. And there were other promises, if you want to know."

He did not want to know. "Shut up, Potter!" Severus snapped. "You did not come here to talk, did you?"

"No…" Came the hesitant answer.

"No, you had another agenda, so why are you not finishing up and leaving?" Severus closed his eyes. Funnily enough, Ettore's words echoed in his mind as well. ' _What is a good king, Severus, if not a servant of his people_?' He could be a servant. He could do it for Potter.

"You want to stay and listen?" Potter barked back also enraged.

"You'd rather I helped?"

Potter was livid, Severus all but felt the furious pulse of magic. "I'd rather you fucking left this bloody room!"

A petulant, childish voice in Severus' head wanted to say, _I was here first_ , but unfortunately another part of his brain took control of his mouth and said in a completely different tone, "Recall his words. Remember every tiny detail he promised you."

"Snape, what…?"

If this was the only way he could serve Potter, so be it.

"Shut up, Potter," he said softly, closing his eyes. "Think about how it felt when he kissed you," he ordered, purposefully lowering his voice to a deep baritone. "Did you resist for a moment at least? Or did you fall in his arms right away?"

Severus heard a huff and deep breathing. He kept his eyes closed, not that he could see anything in the darkness. The sounds were telling their own tales anyway. The longer he relied only on his ears, the more sound he picked up. Not just Potter's breathing, but his fidgeting as well. Severus could hear as he shifted in the chair, looking for a more comfortable position, his legs parted and bumped against the table, his hand slithered on clothe. He could hear him gasp.

"Was it a gentle kiss? Did he hold you in his arms, caress you with his hands as well as his mouth? Did he manage to hold himself back? Or was it wild? Did he push you against the wall? Lift you and ravish your mouth with his teeth and lips?"

Potter grunted quietly and, though Severus hated the world at the moment, he smirked; he would kiss Potter like that. "Did he run his hands up your body? Did you feel his strong grip? Is that why you are hard now? Because he palmed your cock as his tongue fucked your mouth? Did you feel him hard against you, Potter?"

"Mmm…"

Again, even though Potter's breathing seemed unnaturally loud in the silent room, Severus could hear as the fangs of the zipper slowly parted. Potter's hand was not moving on fabric anymore. It was incredible how different the two noises sounded. Hand sliding on fabric was more coarse and abrasive.

Hand on flesh was smooth. Wet. Arousing. Severus had to grasp into the sill not to palm himself.

"Can you feel him now, Potter, pressing against you? His hard cock pressing to your thigh? Rubbing himself against you? Does it feel good?"

Potter moaned, impatient.

"Do you want to feel him? Touch him to know how hard he is just because of you?"

"Yes…"

Severus ran his hand over his erection, his thumb pressing down firmly. "He is stone hard, Potter." He grunted, voice deep and husky with lust. "And do you know where that stiff cock is going to go, Potter?" His Defence professor groaned and shifted in his armchair. "Exactly, Potter. Right in your arse."

"Mmm," Potter reacted, but Severus could not tell if it was an answer, or just a moan. It was delicious anyway. His own cock twitched as he heard the longing sound. Potter wanted to be fucked; his hips bucked up just by the thought of that.

"But not just yet. He's not selfish, is he?" He went on slowly, his voice only a hoarse whisper by now. "Would he kneel before you? Press you against the wall as he opens your clothes and licks your skin? Can you feel as he drags his wet tongue over your neck? His lips stop over your pulse point and he sinks his teeth into you and sucks in the skin. He leaves his mark on you. It's red and even through the pleasure you can feel the pain. Is that what you want, Potter?"

"Fuck, yes! Please…"

Severus opened his eyes and watched the silhouette for a couple of seconds, waiting for it to transform into Potter rather than just a shadow. "He's moving further down, Potter. His teeth are on your nipple now, biting, his tongue twirls around it." He could see the movements soon, faintly, like watching someone through a glass window but some motions were unmistakable. Potter's right hand moving up and down, for once, could not be mistaken with anything. Severus could not see his left until it moved, too. Potter was caressing his chest, his fingers running over his nipples probably.

"His tongue flicks the hard nub, but his hand is nowhere near your chest. Where is it? Can you feel it, Potter?" Potter sighed deeply and Severus smiled. "Is it on your waist to keep you from moving? Lower?" The sigh was closer to a moan now. "Is it on your arse, caressing you? Gripping into the firm muscle?" Potter kept silent this time, but his head jerked to the side. "No, it is on the front, isn't it? The long fingers are deftly feeling you up, pressing down on your cock, stroking your whole length."

Severus would have given anything to light a candle now and watch Potter in bright light. See his hand move on his prick, his thumb rubbing away the precome. He could not do that though, it would break the magic. This only worked as long as they could hide in the darkness and pretend someone else was there.

"He promised to suck you, right, Potter?" Severus asked but did not wait for the answer. "Did he tell you how he would lick the soft tip, kiss off the precome? How he longed to taste you? Do you know what I think, Potter? I think you would taste delicious. I think you would taste so good that he would want you to come in his mouth, shoot your spunk down his throat, cover his face with it. And he would lick every last drop, swallow everything you can give him."

Potter was groaning loudly now, each stroke pulling an ardent sound from him. Severus' hand rested on his cock but he did his best to resist the temptation. This was about Potter, not himself. He was to serve Potter alone, and not get selfish. It was almost like a personal challenge. "Can you feel it? Can you feel the hot mouth around your cock, Potter? Wet tongue shifting on the underside of your cock, tracing veins? Can you hear the sounds he makes as he goes down on you? He can take you in fully, Potter, his lips are around the base of your cock and the tip thrusts against the back of his throat. Can you hear him gag slightly, feel his throat contract around you?"

"Fuck, yes… ahhh… this's mad…"

"Oh, yes it is," Severus smirked, watching the shadow twist in the chair, throwing its head from left to right, listening to the sound of a body moving against velvet covered cushioning, pushing up, shifting, hand stroking hard flesh. Wet, squelching sounds filled the air and Severus could not help his hand as it pressed down on his own erection, caressing himself slowly, almost tenderly. Potter was moving fast now, no doubt getting close. "He's mad with lust, Potter. He wants to fuck you. He's hard, so hard."

"Fuck yes… Yes, please…" Potter begged breathlessly.

"You want it, Potter?" Severus continued in a low voice, not even pretending that he could maintain control on his own hands now. "Are your legs trembling yet, Potter? You want him to turn you around and hold you against that wall, don't you? You want him to grip your arse and pull your cheeks apart, right? He's pressing against you, can you feel it? He's slowly sliding against your cleft, grunting into your ear. Can you hear his voice, Potter? Can you hear him as he tells you that in a minute he will be inside you, only a second more and he will push his cock inside your ass and he will fuck you against that wall? Can you hear it? Do you like what he's telling you, Potter? Can you hear him as he asks you, _do you want me inside you, Harry_? Answer him, Potter. Do you want him inside you?"

"Yes! Yes, please… fuck yes! I want… I want…"

"He loves it when you beg, you know that, right? He needs to hear you beg, feel you shiver, hear you moan his name, before he thrusts inside, before he lets you feel his cock stretch your arse. Beg for him, Potter." He ordered, his own palm roughly shifting over his erection. He knew Potter was thinking of the damn Italian, but Severus longed to hear the pleading moans. And Potter was gracious enough to give him what he wanted.

"Please, f- _ahh_ … please… bloody hell, just fuck me, _please_!"

Severus almost came hearing the words so he quickly grasped the windowsill instead. He faintly remembered this was not supposed to be about him. He had to concentrate on Potter now.

"Oh yes, Potter, you are good at this, aren't you? He wants to be good to you as well, you know. He wants you to feel good, as good as he feels when he's pressing inside you. Do you feel good, Potter?"

"Yes, yes, yes, so fucking c-close. _Please_ …Please don't stop…"

"God, Potter, you feel so good around him. So tight and hot, pulling him deeper inside. When will your little arse be satisfied, Potter? When he's buried to the hilt inside you? Will that be enough, when you can feel his bollocks slap against you as he's fucking you into the wall? Can you feel him sliding in and out of you, fast and hard, every thrust sending you against the wall, you can barely hold yourself up, right, Potter? But that's not enough, you need his hand on your cock as well, don't you? You need his lips on you, kissing you again. You need his voice in your head as he tells you how good you feel around him. You need him, just as much as he needs you. You want him to come in you, fill you up with hot come, right?"

Potter was all but whining now, so close, needing just one more, tiny thing to tip him over. Severus already hated himself for what he was about to say. He readied his heart for the inevitable pain, because he knew it would hurt more than anything. It would shatter the pretence, break Severus' heart all over again. But this was what it meant to be a king – selflessly taking care of his people, of Potter.

"Make him come, Potter. Scream his name, let him hear you, let him hear how much you like his cock, tell him what you want him to do with you. Tell him! Say his name!"

"Please Severus, harder, fuck yes," Potter moaned, voice hitching, broken. "Fuck me harder, Severus…" he grunted, coming hard.

Black eyes widened. " _Severus_?" he repeated quietly, all but growling.

**o.O.o**

His orgasm washed through him in waves, every stroke adding to it, his cock way too sensitive, but he couldn't stop the slow but firm caressing. Blinding rush of arousal clenched all his muscles, his insides, his heart. He knew he should feel ashamed, or at least a bit embarrassed but he could not bring himself to feel anything else just satisfaction.

" _Severus_?" Snape growled and that finally pushed him towards reality again.

Harry took slow, deep breathes, to calm himself. He should have felt around for his wand and clean himself, but all he could do was slump in the chair, let his head fall back and just lie there, breathing, existing, and feeling the ripples of pleasure the maddeningly good orgasm had left behind.

"Severus?" Came the question again, all but inches from him. The closeness surprised him, but he was too spent to actually back off. He opened his eyes instead. Even in the dark, he could make out the face that was hovering in front of him, so close, he could even see the glint in the black eyes. "Me?"

Harry's lips pulled into a lazy smile. "Don't be so surprised. I could hardly think of anyone else, while listening to that voice of yours, now could I?" He held up his right hand, smile twisting into a smug smirk. "Do you still think I taste delicious?" He asked quietly, but teasing.

Snape snapped his fingers and a white candle was lit on the desk. Long, cold fingers caged around Harry's wrist. The light was barely enough to bring brightness to the well-known face. Orange light played mischievously in the black eyes that were watching him intently.

Harry was way past beyond anything decent. He moved his hand, the fingers didn't restrict him, and pressed a single digit over Snape's thin lips, smearing drying come on the soft, pink flesh. Snape moaned, Harry could feel the warm air escaping his lungs, and he pushed the digit against crooked teeth. "Didn't you want to taste me, Snape? Didn't you say, you would lick every last drop, swallow everything I can give you? Or wasn't that you? Should I go to Ettore with this?"

His finger was in the warm mouth before he even finished the sentence. Snape was licking him clean like a cat, deft tongue sliding against his finger, then on his palm, strong fingers holding his hand up, black eyes watching him intently, never moving away. Lastly, Snape placed a soft kiss on the middle of his palm, then let Harry go, backing away from the small circle of light the candle provided.

"You know I am not allowed to touch you."

Harry tucked himself away and straightened his clothes. "Because this was something absolutely different," he commented. "Or wait, talking doesn't matter, right? You can say anything you like, and the next moment do the complete opposite, right?" Harry asked, finally giving voice to all his anger from the past months.

"What are you talking about, Potter?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Snape. Did you fuck him? Or did he just suck you two minutes after you had your hand on my cock?"

"What does it matter to you, Potter? As if you would be innocent! Did you tell him your room is taken? Did he offer you to stay? Or did he show you to his room right away?"

"And what if he did? What if he showed me his bed, made me lie on it while he told me what exactly he would do to me tonight?"

"Don't," hissed Snape enraged from somewhere in the shadows. "Do not play with me, brat, or you will regret it!"

"Oh, I'm the one playing now, am I?" Harry spat truly angry now. "What was this then, Snape? A game? Was this just a competition for you? Did you want to prove you can do better than him? Well you did," Harry laughed bitterly. "He never got me even near orgasm."

Snape burst out from the shadows like a vengeful ghost, and smashed his hands on the table as he leaned over Harry again. "Do you enjoy torturing me, Potter? Do you think I like this?"

"You didn't sound like you hated it, Snape."

"I am your employer and this is called sexual harassment, Potter! What do you think, just how much did I enjoy that?"

"How would I know?" Harry shouted. "One moment you have your hand on my cock, the next his mouth on yours! Just what am I to think of that? I have no idea what the fuck you want anymore!"

"What do you want me to say?" Snape said suddenly in a very low tone. He wasn't shouting anymore, but his anger was clear as the moon on the sky outside. "That I need you like air? That I want to taste the sweat on your skin? That I crave to feel your body move beneath me? That I want you to be mine and mine _alone_?"

"Say whatever you like, Snape, it's not like I can believe you anymore!" Harry snapped and the face barely inches from him changed suddenly. The anger melted away and a hurt expression was there instead. Snape looked as if Harry had hit him, almost aching. Harry looked aside and sighed, before he turned around to leave. He turned back from the door, the light from outside casting a bright stipe over Snape's slender figure. He was still leaning on the huge antique desk, his head hung low, his hair cascaded forward and covered whatever expression might be on his face.

Harry closed the door and rushed away, not seeing the wizards and witches around him. He marched on the elegant corridor, his hands fisting, craving to smash the beautiful flowers that lined the hallway in fancy, no doubt priceless vases.

He was outside the next minute, passing torches so fast, their fire seemed a continuous blaze. Someone may have called his name but he had no desire to talk to anyone. He turned on his heels and Apparated to his flat.

**o.O.o**

The light knock on the door surprised Severus, after all this was not his home. He looked up finally and saw the last person he needed standing at the doorway. Ettore was frowning as he stepped in the Library, closing the door behind him.

"I should have known it was you…" said the Italian softly as he walked closer. "What happened?" He asked putting a hand gently on Severus' shoulder.

Severus pulled away from the touch and went back to the window. He leant against the frame and looked out, not wishing to see Ettore's handsome, perfect face. He said slowly, "If this was a game, I think I have just won it for you."

"What game, _mio_ Severus? I do not understand you."

Severus heaved a deep sigh, "Potter. He's yours."

"I am afraid that is up to him to decide," Ettore chuckled. "But why are you telling me this? And what game did you win for me?"

Severus looked out, watching the torches in the distant backyard. "Is he staying here tonight?"

"You worry me, Severus, you make no sense," Ettore smiled kindly, sitting down on the plush cushions that covered the sill. "He already left. Why would he even stay?"

Eyes widening slowly, Severus asked back, "You have not…?"

"Not what? Speak now, my friend. You truly worry me."

"Miss Granger feels ill and she and her partner are staying in Potter's room. Did he not tell you this?"

"He told me about Hermione and the little girl, but said nothing about his room being taken. What is going on, Severus? Did you two quarrel?"

Severus huffed a bitter laughter, "Fight is more like it."

"What happened? Tell me, _mio diletto_."

Slowly, Severus looked at Ettore. The light of the single candle on the table glinted in the ocean blue eyes. "You, _friend_ , you happened," answered Severus quietly.

Ettore watched him, gaze intense for a few moments, then realization seemed to dawn on him as his lips parted in surprise. " _Mio Dio_ , Severus, could it be? Is he the one because of whom you rejected me? Harry?"

Onyx eyes snapped back to observe the garden, even though Severus had learned its routes by heart by now, he had watched it for so long.

"Severus," Ettore called him strictly. "Answer me. Is it Harry you are in love with?"

Severus ran five fingers through his hair before he confessed in a pained voice, "Indeed, it is him."

"Why…" Ettore breathed astonished, "why have you not said a word? Does he know?"

"Of course he does not and that is how it shall remain, do you understand me?" Severus snapped.

"Why in Vergil's name have you not told him?" Ettore cried. "And me? Oh _Dio_ , how I have behaved towards him in front of you… _Mi dispiace_ , Severus. Had I known…"

"Why?" Severus sneered. "Had you known, it is still up to Potter to accept you. My… affections make no matter regarding your relationship with him."

"But they do!" Ettore protested. "I offered him a night, you are offering him love; do you not see it, Severus? Is this the game you had won for me? Please tell me it is not, the matters of the heart cannot be a game, not even for you, my friend! I do not wish to win a game like this!"

"My offer, whatever it is, does not matter, Ettore. A night or a lifetime, I am his headmaster, I could never jeopardize the school's reputation."

"Oh yes, indeed," Ettore said thoughtfully, "the school's reputation. Are we talking about the school whose professor I had seen in the newspaper? Whose bottom had been filled with two cocks? Oh yes, love between two professors would demolish that reputation, surely."

"Sarcasm does not suit you, Ettore," snapped Severus.

"And idiocy does not suit you, my friend," Ettore answered heatedly. "Loving someone is precious, it is not something you throw away out of pride. What possessed you to keep this a secret? You two get along well, you are handsome, a man of great character. He would be foolish not to at least consider."

"He considers and that is problem enough," Severus said quietly. "I cannot let… Too much is at stake."

"What?" Ettore asked sharply? "Beyond your pride, that is? A man like Harry… he is worth begging for."

"You do not understand!"

"Than explain it to me!"

"The curse. Once, long, long time ago, the Dark Lord had applied for the Defence against the Dark Arts position. He was refused and since then, we could not keep a teacher for more than a year. Some survived, some lost their memories, some even died. I am running out of people Ettore, Potter is my last chance. I cannot take the job myself and run the school and simply no suitable people apply anymore. I cannot risk it. We need to break the curse first."

Ettore watched him, blue eyes narrowing slightly. "Did it never occur to you that your current actions would be what chases away Harry? That giving up on him, you give up on your professor as well? When we met in February, Harry had been so full of energy it made my head spin. Now he is… broken. I can see it, Severus, and you would too if you looked at him."

"Oh believe me, Ettore, I am looking at him. I am looking at him so much it is all but stalking."

"And yet, you do not see," Serafini sighed turning aside, "I am angry at you, Severus," he said calmly, eyes on the backyard. "The matters of the heart are not play things. You need to make your intensions clear from the beginning, because other people's emotions are not toys. They break too easily."

Severus grabbed Ettore's arm and when the blue eyes were on him, he hissed, "You think I don't know that? You think I knew this would happen? You think only Potter gets hurt here? Do you honestly believe that I do not die inside bit by bit every time he smiles at you? Every time I see you touch him? Damn you, Ettore; I hate the fact that I like you. Why can you not be a vile man? Everything would be so bloody easier."

Ettore smiled ruefully, and his hand reached up to touch Severus's face. He caressed his cheekbones gently with the back of his fingers as he said in a soft tone, "You need to tell this to him. There is nothing more beautiful than a man in love, Severus."

"Apparently, Italian designers are better."

"You are wrong," Ettore laughed letting Severus go, who also dropped his arm. "He is not superficial, not even with me. He has been attracted to me since the first moment he had seen me, it has been obvious as the sun on the sky, yet he refused me. Tonight was the first night he seemed interested. Now when he knows more than just my body. How ironic," he chuckled. "You British people madden me."

"Oh because you Italians are so easy to handle," Severus reacted jovially.

Ettore smirked as he stood up. They were the same height, Severus realized. "Some are. I have however a bit of that maddening British blood in me as well," he said. "Tell me something, Severus. What do you want to do now? I promise to leave Harry alone, but please tell me. I do not want either of you hurt."

"No," Severus shook his head. "Your relationship with Potter… I have no right to tell him who he sleeps with."

"Ah, you fool!" Ettore cried suddenly, and Severus stepped back, surprised. "That is not how you feel, is it? Not this calmness, surely! Not _you_! If he agrees, I will wrap my mouth around his cock and finally taste him, Severus. Then I will fuck his tight, little -"

"Enough!" Severus shouted smashing the smirking Ettore against the wall. "Friendship be damned, I will tear out your limbs if you utter even one more word!"

"That is the _spirito_ Severus," Ettore chuckled. "Show him this, show him this desperate lust, this desire, show him how much you love him, show him everything."

"Ettore, I-"

"I have had enough of your excuses, Severus," Ettore smiled not even bothered by the fact that Severus still had his arm pressed against his throat. "You want this to be a game? Alright. You have until May. Then I am coming back, and he will be mine, Severus. I will fill up all his holes, my body will be covered in his come. I will taste him, fuck him; I will make him mine."

Severus involuntarily increased the pressure on Serafini's throat, but Ettore just grabbed his neck and pulled him closer. "Now go, before I bend you over this desk and use you to vent my frustration."

"You would never…" Severus replied, the corner of his mouth twitching, but he stepped back, straightening his clothes. "You are too much of a gentleman."

Ettore shrugged, "Every thread can snap if strained too much."

Severus turned around and headed to the door with a new determination burning low in his stomach. He knew exactly what game Ettore was playing with him. He looked back over his shoulders, and stared straight at Ettore's blue eyes. His tone was low as he growled, "I will never let you touch him, Serafini, let alone taste him. So let me tell you, he is absolutely _delicious_."

Ettore chuckled darkly then said with a teasing grin, "Ah, the things these books have seen…"

"And heard," Severus added also smirking.


	12. Interlude: The Plummer and the Pizza Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter was just an APRIL FOOLS JOKE so please don't take it seriously. You can even skip it if you want.

**Interlude: The Plummer and the Pizza Man**

**o.O.o**

Severus stormed out of the house, leaving even his coat behind.

Where? Where would Potter go?

Hogwarts? There were plenty of rooms there, and even the Room of Requirement would provide Potter with a bed and whatever he needed. But no, somehow it didn't feel alright. He thought harder, listing all the places in his mind: Grimmauld Place, The Burrow, Hogwarts, Privet Drive. Then suddenly, it came to him. A dark park and a short walk all those months ago.

Potter had his own flat now! Smirking, Severus turned on his heels.

A gruesome, twisting feeling in his stomach and a loud bang later he appeared just outside the building. He looked up. The light was still shining in Potter's window.

He ran inside and up the stairs, searching frantically for a door, but the numbers weren't in order. He looked and looked, going higher and higher in the building and then finally, there it was: number 42. The answer to the most important question. Potter was right beyond that door.

He knocked and the door opened, Potter shouting from inside, "Come on, hurry! I can't hold it!"

Severus frowned for a moment, but walked in.

"Oh god, it's leaking, please hurry!"

Severus quickened his steps and rushed to the kitchen. Potter was on his knees, half way under the sink, his arse perking up into the air. A great puddle of water was beneath him.

"Just what on earth had happened here?" Severus asked.

"The plumbing broke, isn't it obvious? We need to plug it."

Severus waved his wand and the pipe stopped dripping water all over Potter. "You're a wizard, Harry! Use your wand, for Merlin's sake!"

Suddenly, Potter lay onto the kitchen floor, his hand fisted around his hard cock. "I intend to." He answered with a lazy smirk, tugging on his dick up and down, while kicking down his pants. He reached to his arse and pushed a finger inside, moaning wantonly. "Something else is needing some plugging if you wouldn't mind."

"Would be my honour." Severus murmured, kneeling down in front of Potter.

Harry hooked his legs over Severus' shoulder, hair dripping wet, cock red, swollen, leaking precome. "Plug ahead," he smirked.

Severus pushed inside with one long stroke, his cock sliding in with ease. But before he could fuck Harry in earnest a voice sounded up behind him.

"Pizza delivery!"

Severus turned towards the heavy Italian accent. Half naked Ettore stood over them, hard cock hanging out of his pants, steaming pizza in his hand.

"I don't have any money," Severus said then looked down on Potter, who shook his head as well.

"Worry not, _mio_ Severus. Then instead of the pizza, you can eat this." He dropped the pizza box on the counter and stood over Potter, facing Severus, who looked up at him. Ettore's cock, long and thick, was held out for him to have a taste.

"Do it," Harry said from below. "Let me see you suck him."

Severus finally closed his lips around the soft, almost purple head. Ettore moaned loudly, gibberish Italian flowing from his lips. Harry started fucking himself, riding Severus' cock up and down, reaching up with a hand, fingers slipping between Ettore's legs, pushing inside.

Ettore moaned, so did Harry and Severus.

**o.O.o**

Severus woke with a grunt, tasting something fuzzy in his mouth.

"Fucking idiot dreams…" He muttered into his pillow, as he palmed his cock through his pants. "Could have at least lasted longer…"


	13. Chapter Eleven: Betrayal and Devotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini dictionary: cazzo - fuck / polizia - police / bastardo - bastard / magia - magic /

**Chapter Eleven: Betrayal and Devotion**

**o.O.o**

Every day after the fundraiser Severus woke up promising himself that he would talk to Potter. Confess to him, or at least try to explain him what had happened between him and Ettore. And every day, when he had seen those stormy green eyes during breakfast his resolution would evaporate like spilt water on a scorching summer's day. Potter's words, like the rattling chains of a vengeful ghost echoed in his mind, stirring him up, leaving him restless. Would Potter believe him now? A week went by like this, in constant agonizing swirl of what ifs and could it be-s and the day of Ettore's return was coming closer and closer. Until one morning he woke up, realizing that tonight the Italian would hold his show and then be back in Scotland. Claiming what was Severus'. Or at least, should be.

Severus, still in pyjamas and his nightgown, sat at his desk in the oval office, staring out at the sunrise. It had to happen today and yet, he felt himself weakened by that thought. What if Potter refused him? Could he handle that? He must surely, for the sake of the school, he had to keep Potter here no matter what, yet to live with him after being rejected… Oh it would kill him. He took a deep breath to calm his clenching heart. He was about to stand when a misty, blue smudge of fog appeared on his desk.

He stared at it, wand already in hand and pointing at the slowly swirling haze. He walked around the desk, head tilted trying to figure out what on earth it was. As seconds passed by, the smog seemed to solidify and in the same time, take a shape. A shape of an eagle. An eagle patronus, to be precise.

The eagle lifted its head and opened its beak but instead of a squawk, a well know Italian accent said, "Severus, my friend, I am terribly sorry for this early message." Ettore sounded distressed, almost panicked, which alarmed Severus as well. "I require your help. No, I _need_ your help, Severus, desperately. If you are willing to hear me out, let me through your fireplace at seven o'clock sharp. I ask you to summon Harry and Draco too, this concerns them as well. I beg of you, Severus, my whole career depends on this."

After the last word came out of the bird, the eagle bowed its head than disappeared in a puff of smoke. Severus stared at the place where it stood for a second longer then looked at the clock on his wall. He had fifteen minutes. He summoned his doe and sent it to both Draco and Potter with the short message of, "Come to my office immediately. Use the fire."

Not even two minutes had passed when the colour of the small fire switched to green and an unruly haired young man stumbled across it. Severus swiftly caught him before he could fall to the ground and looked down on Potter. His heart missed a beat at the sight.

Potter must have been woken up by his message. He clearly looked as he had just climbed out of the bed. His glasses were slightly askew, eyes still looking sleepy but alarmed, and shining oh so green in the morning light. His hair was a mess and Severus longed to run his fingers through it to mess it up even more. Potter was also half naked, wearing only dark grey, wool pyjama pants, which were so baggy, they stayed snugly on Potter's hips only thanks to the white cord that was knotted in a bow at the front. If Severus were to pull on the string and untie it…

He groaned quietly, his breathing quickening. Potter did not move from his arms. His skin was still bed warm and soft and suddenly Severus realized he was lightly caressing the young man's waist. Potter inched closer, his fluffy mule slippers tickled Severus' bare feet and next a leg slipped between his thighs and Potter's bare chest pressed against his. The eyes that never left his were burning like green fire, as ever so slowly Severus slipped his hands over Potter's waist, fingertips gently tracing his vertebra.

"This better not be the reason why you summoned me" drawled a sleepy voice. "Unlike some, I do not have voyeuristic tendencies."

Potter backed away instantaneously, green eyes widening and the previous angry storm waking up in the depth of those emerald pools.

"There was a message from Ettore. He should be here in a couple of minutes," Severus explained glaring at Draco. "He has a request for us, which is the reason why you are here."

He shrugged off his nightgown without even a second thought and draped it across Potter's bare shoulders. He received a weird glance, but the young man did not push it off himself. Instead, he drew his hands through the sleeves and wrapped it tightly around his body, then tied the belt without a word.

They were sitting silently, drinking hot coffee by the time Ettore stepped through the green fire, staggering. He clutched into the sill of the fireplace to steady himself and Draco stood right away to help him, but Ettore held up a hand. "No need, Draco, I am alright. International Floo travel is rather… dizzying. But I had to hurry and this was faster than applying for a Portkey."

"Sit," Draco ordered, stirring the Italian towards his chair. "Coffee? Tea?"

Ettore gulped all but blanching, "I rather not, thank you."

"What can we do for you, Ettore?" Severus asked finally after giving Ettore some time to catch his breath.

Ettore looked all three of them in the eyes before he answered in a serious tone, "You know of my show tonight, correct? I have been working on it in the last year. The new collection is… ah rather spectacular. And now, thanks to a fool my whole work might crumble apart like a house of cards in a tornado!"

"What happened?"

"The most despicable thing that could happen to a designer," Ettore fumed, fist coming down hard on the desk. "My ideas got stolen! Abominable people, leeches, all of them!" After a string of Italian swearwords Ettore took a deep breath and went on calmer. "My model, as it turned out, spied on me and stole my sketches. Sold them to my great rival out of spite and jealousy. I was there last night when Bernardo introduced _my_ creations to the public. Ah, _cazzo_!"

"So what now? You can't make the same show, tonight, can you?" Potter asked hands fumbling with the black belt in his lap.

"Oh I could but that would be the end of my career," Ettore groaned. "No, I would need to come up with a new set in one day. Which I obviously cannot achieve. Luckily, however there were designs they could not stole and with a little tweak I could combine this collection with a different one. And this is where you come in the picture."

"I'm afraid neither one us knows anything about designing," said Draco with a hint of laughter in his voice. "I mean look at these two," he sneered motioning at Potter's wool pyjamas and Severus' simple black t-shirt and thin, cotton pants. He was wearing impeccable silk robes as usual for a Malfoy. "But I might know some designers who could help you out. And I definitely know some people who could… sprinkle some salt on your leeches."

Ettore was in front of Draco the next moment, Severus did not even see him stand up and walk there. His hand was in the blond hair, lips twisting into an evil smile. "I do not need any designer, I need a _drago_ to breathe fire upon my enemies."

"You got it, sweetheart," Draco grinned, something evil Severus had not seen for a while glinting in his eyes.

"I will give you the name. There is not much the _polizia_ can do with the model but I want him punished. And I need proof. I need someone who can sneak in out of Bernardo's office without being noticed. I know where he keeps the papers. I need someone who can get them for me."

Potter raised a hand suddenly, wicked grin playing on his lips, too. "I think I might be able to help with that actually."

"Spells won't work," Ettore stated.

"Who said anything about spells," Potter replied chancing a glance at Severus.

"You still have that blasted cloak? And it is still working?" asked Severus.

"Oh I certainly do and it certainly does," he reassured them easily.

"Cloak?"

"Cloak of Invisibility," Potter explained. "My dad never got to build a tree house for me, but he did leave me a pretty good gift."

Ettore smiled darkly then pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket and tapped it with his wand. He held the paper out to Draco. "This is the name. Do not hurt him, but make him suffer, _mio drago_."

"With pleasure," Draco replied.

"There is something else," Ettore stated turning to Severus and Harry. "Something very special. The new collection is… well… not a simple collection. It has a special theme. Anyway. The two opening pieces… they are a set, so to speak. I have been working on them for a while, for months perhaps, they were more of a hobby. But I have been stuck with them. Something just did not feel right. Until two weeks ago, when we had that little chat, remember Severus?"

Severus remembered, of course he did. Potter looked at him, suddenly curious and irritated at the same time.

"Now they are ready. And the new theme is based on them; they are essential for this show to be successful. However, there is only two people who I would allow to wear something this special. Which is why, I need you two to model for me."

"This is mad! Ridiculous!"

"You got to be kidding me!"

"You must be out of your mind…"

"That, my dear boy, is absolutely brilliant."

Ettore looked around searching for the fourth man who had also commented on his statement. "Ah," he smiled at the old, bearded man, whose painted eyes were twinkling mischievously. "You must be the famous _Professore_ Dumbledore. I have heard a great deal about you."

"Don't believe half it, young man," Albus said. "This idea of yours, it is rather…"

"Mad?" Severus offered.

"Unusual, I would say. I am sure you have something to offer our Slytherin Headmaster in return. After all, surely a man like you are not naïve enough to think Severus Snape would agree to this without a… good incentive."

"Of course," Ettore nodded, sly smile on his face. "If you get me the papers, I will sue and I will win and let me tell you, Bernardo Governale will pay a huge amount of money for this mistake. Tons of Florins, all yours."

"I do not need your money," Severus stated fiercely.

"You do not. But your school does," Ettore said, then looking at Potter, he added, "And so does… Lumos, was it? The money will be all yours, you do whatever you want with it."

"What amount are we talking about?" Draco asked with a calculating tone.

"Seven figures at least," Ettore answered. "All yours to keep. Think about it. No more fundraisers, no more boring charity galas. You can make a new school out of that money."

"Why don't you want it?" Potter asked.

"I have money, I do not care about that. I just want to see Bernardo humiliated. I want every man and woman in our world to know what an uncreative, stealing _bastardo_ that man is. _No one_ steals from Ettore Serafini. _No one_."

Severus did not like the determined look on Potter's face. The righteous little shit was considering the deal. Severus felt like screaming. Modelling? What a nightmare! And yet, he knew, if Potter said yes… He could not let him go alone. A day with Ettore in Italy? Whoever knew what the inebriating, sweet taste of revenge would make them do?

"I'm in," Potter said suddenly, wide grin on his face.

"Potter!" Severus could not help but exclaim. "Damn you!"

Potter shrugged mutinously, "You don't have to come."

"Actually," Ettore raised a hand, "you do. Your clothes are a set. Perfect fit. You are to stride on the catwalk together. No one was supposed to wear these or even lay eyes on them. These were… inspirational clothes. Not for the eyes of the public, that is. They contain my own _magia_ , you see, which is why I am so angry at Bernardo and the model. Their betrayal makes me do something I have not done since my debut. I would not trust anyone else with these. My plan is worthless if you do not come with me. Please, Severus, I beg of you, do not refuse me once more."

"Once more?" Potter asked his gaze shifting between Severus and Ettore as if watching two Chasers passing the Quaffle between them. "What do you mean once more? What does he mean once more, Snape? Tell me!" demanded Potter. "Snape, tell me!"

"What do you think once more means, Potter?" Severus snapped.

"What our dear friend tries to say," Ettore cut in, his tone placatory, "that in February he had refused my advances."

"He did not," Potter stated. "I was there, I saw you two."

"You did?" Asked Ettore slowly before he shook his head, then said, "Harry, you are mistaken. Nothing happened between the two of us. I did my best, which was probably what you had witnessed, however… Severus' heart was… let us say, _not in it_ and we agreed, we are better off as friends."

"Friends?" Potter growled at Severus. "What the hell is going on here, Snape?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Draco grunted. "You can't be that daft, Potter. Look at Dumbledore, even he knows what is going on and he's _dead_."

The old man was indeed beaming happily at them, twirling his white beard around his forefinger. "Alas, Mister Malfoy, things are easier to notice when looked upon from the outside. Or in my case, from above."

Angry green eyes set strictly on Severus, Potter said, "You two, get out of here. I need to have a word with our dear Headmaster. Let's meet up in front of the Great Hall in twenty minutes.

Severus' gaze followed the softly smirking Ettore and Draco as they walked through the greenly burning fire once again. When the flames swallowed the two bodies, his eyes reluctantly returned to Potter.

"You said-" Potter started angrily, but his words got caught in his throat. "You said he… I know what I've seen."

"You do not know what you have seen, neither what I have said."

"Just fucking stop with these riddles, Snape, will you?" Potter hissed leaning over his table. The scene hauntingly reminded Severus of that night in the Library, only now they were in reverse. "Tell me what happened! Is it true? What Ettore said?"

He stared into the stormy, emerald orbs for a second then replied curtly, "Yes."

"Why did you lie then?" The young man asked fiercely.

"I didn't lie, Potter, I simply let you assume something. And don't you dare be affronted by that! You did the exact same thing that night."

Potter huffed, eyes drifting away just to return over Severus to glare at him angrily. "What's _Severus_ then?"

"A fucking piece of clothing, Potter! Ask the damn designer, not me!"

Potter plopped down into the chair, leaned back and watched Severus for a few seconds, perhaps even minutes. The tip of his forefinger drummed anxiously on the armrest.

When he spoke again, his tone was levelled, not angry anymore. "So what, he really was just tying your shoes back then, and I need new glasses?"

Severus leant forward, elbows resting on his desk. "I was not wearing shoes back then, Potter, and you know that. He was licking my cock through my pants, which is as far as we have ever gotten. Which cannot be said about the two of you."

Potter's lush lips pulled into a snarl. "He kissed me, Snape, _once_. That's hardly the same."

"No, indeed, that's way worse, Potter," Severus snapped. "Much more meaningful."

Potter leaned forward, challenging expression on his face. "Believe me, it was not nearly as meaningful as when I had you against my back, with your hand around my cock."

"Then he is not a very good kisser."

"Or your hand feels really good on my cock," stated Potter.

They watched each other, Severus itching to stand, to go and make Potter feel really, really good then. The green eyes were all but burning him and he had to look aside before he did something reckless. "Potter…" he sighed, leaning back.

Potter grabbed his hand, voice pleading, "Don't you back away now. Don't you fucking dare… please…"

"Do you remember, why I offered you this position, Potter?" Asked Severus softly, watching their hands. Potter felt so warm, so reassuring, it was like holding on to a mug of coffee.

"To break the curse," he nodded. "I know what you think. That this will end badly, and I'll be out of here before the semester ends. But-"

"But what?" Severus asked sharply. "Can you guarantee me that if I allow _this_ to happen then we will not be found out? That the Board of Governors will not file a sexual harassment report against me and send me on my way the moment they hear about this? Fire _you_? I am out of options, Potter. I do not have any applicants for your post, _none_. I _need_ you here, Potter. Hogwarts needs you to be on this post for one more year. Or tell me what I am supposed to do. Teach it myself? Make Draco do it and lose him too? Go on, tell me!"

"Snape…" Potter sighed, looking to the side, pulling his hand back but Severus grasped it.

"One word, Potter, and I risk it. You know I would. Damn, I almost did it the moment I hired you. I meant what I said in that Library. I, me, Severus Snape, I need you, too. I need you like air, more than air, more than anything in fact."

"But," said Potter, pulling his hands back and standing up. For a moment, Severus though he would leave and he felt a sudden twist in his stomach, but instead, Potter walked around the desk and stopped right next to Severus. Severus pushed himself up too and looked down at Potter, who then finally continued to speak. "But this is _your_ school now. Your kingdom," he smiled. "And your kingdom comes first, right, my king?"

Severus chuckled darkly and leant to Potter's ear so his words would not be overheard by long dead headmasters. He let his lips brush against the shell making the young wizard shudder as he whispered, "Honestly, I would rather just make you come. Again and again until you are covered in your own semen."

Laughing, Potter pushed him away. He was blushing as he looked up, burning green eyes, wet lips, hands still fisted in Severus' old shirt. "That's not fair. You can't just say stuff like that, you know. Not unless… you act on it."

"Fuck…" Severus muttered running five fingers through his own hair first, then Potter's. "We need to go. We really do."

Potter nuzzled his hand, eyes closing. His fist tightened around Severus' shirt. "We need to figure this out sooner than later, Snape, because I'm going to go mad like this. Establish some rules. And distance."

"We will," said Severus, then grasped into the thick, black mane and yanked it back, suddenly remembering who they would be spending the weekend with. Potter hissed, then licked his lips, hot breath escaping from his mouth. "And Ettore?"

Smugly, Potter grinned, defiant green eyes looking back at Severus. "Oh, so you want me still loyal, huh? That will be hard. Really hard," he said teasingly, pushing closer.

Severus just snarled, pulling on the raven hair.

"Give me something," moaned the young man, hands sliding around Severus' neck. "I once swore my loyalty to you and you pushed me away. Not anymore, Snape. I need a promise. I don't care how much you make me wait, I'll do it, but I need a promise in return."

Severus tilted his head ever so slowly to the right and leant closer, his fingers still gripping firmly the black mane, holding Potter still. Potter watched him, eyes wide open, lips parting, his breathing faster and faster. They were so close, Severus could feel the hot puffs of air that ghosted across his face, caressed his wet lips. His own eyes flickered between the lips he wanted to taste and the green eyes he all but lost himself in. Potter's arms tightened around his neck, his fingers sliding through long black curls.

He could literally feel the tension between them. Perhaps it was magical energy, but something was there like a great force he had to push through to close that one last final inch. It sparkled and cracked, he could all but feel tiny bubbles of pure energy burst between them, but he kept leaning closer and closer.

Right before their mouths would meet, the moment seemed to freeze. Neither of them exhaled, the air was stuck in their lungs. Potter's eyelids slowly closed, but Severus forced his own to stay open.

Then their lips touched and though it was the briefest of contact, the affect was more than unsettling. An electrifying stream of energy bolted through him. Potter must have felt the same burst of magic because his whole body shuddered and he let out a shaky breath, long, almost a moan.

Severs willed himself not to move for just a moment and stay like that, with Potter's lower lip between his, and just let the realization sink in.

He was kissing Harry Potter. Harry Fucking Potter. _Finally_.

After years and years of need, lust, dreams full of desire, desperate wanks in the shower, long hours of masturbation in bed, fingers inside himself, around himself, gripping sliding, nothing, _nothing_ could bring the satisfaction he craved so much and all that pent up frustration was now there, between their lips, and Severus savoured it, he could _taste_ it. Taste it all. It was sensational. Liberating. Uplifting. Dangerous. He let it wash over him, take him like a tidal wave.

Fuck, this was a mistake. The dam was broken. There was no way back from here.

Groaning, Potter pushed him away, Severus all but run but his desk didn't let him. Potter stared at him, eyes burning like green fire, his stare eating Severus alive. Severus was sure his own expression was nothing less carnivorous. The energy between them changed. It was pulling them in now, like a magnet.

"Rules," croaked Potter suddenly, reaching behind himself, clutching the windowsill to hold himself at place and not to jump on Severus.

Severus grabbed his desk and backed as far away as it let him. The edge was already cutting into the back of his thighs. He let out a shaky breath. "And distance."

Weak, uncertain laughter left the lush lips. "Let's take a deep breath… and… and…" Panting, Potter couldn't finish.

Severus knew, just _knew_ what was on that mind at this moment and he didn't need any Legilimency for it. Potter wanted to have sex with him – that was what both of them wanted do, what they both _craved_ actually. To fuck right now, right here. If Severus just tore that robe off that young body and untied that white cord, Potter wouldn't say a word. He wouldn't say no, wouldn't tell Severus to stop, to get those hands off him. He would just stand there stark naked and pleading probably. The notion itself was more than intoxicating.

"I would give up Hogwarts for you." He did not realize he actually uttered the words aloud until he saw the green eyes widen slightly. He let go of the table and let the invisible force pull him to Potter. He touched the handsome, young face, his palm sliding up on his neck, thumb caressing the slightly pink cheeks. "Harry, I would."

Potter smiled softly. "I would never ask you to. I don't want you to. Your place is here. And this is _your_ school, _your_ kingdom. This isn't just a stupid metaphor. You earned to be here and what you do here is great. We will deal with this somehow. We need to, otherwise I doubt any of us will be doing much working any time soon." He lips twisted into a playful grin as he added, "I can hardly breathe, my legs are still shaking and my chest hurts so much I'm pretty sure my ribs cracked because my heart is pounding so hard. This is no proper working condition, Headmaster."

Severus leant to Harry's ear, pressing his temple to Potter's. "I could give you air mouth to mouth, I could lift you, pull your legs around my waist and hold you up. I could shower your chest with kisses to ease the pain."

"Severus…" breathed Harry, shifting until their foreheads were touching.

He could feel the brief touch of lips against lips, only a gentle, ghost-like kiss, then Harry pulled away. Severus was never so grateful in his life.

"Go now," he said with a strict voice, which was nothing but pretence. He was weak like a blade of grass against a summer storm.

With one last desperate look at Severus' mouth, Potter turned to leave. Severus watched him walk to the hearth but after throwing a fistful of Floo Powder into the fire, Harry turned back.

"What would you have done if I had kissed just you now? Really kiss you? Hypothetically of course. If life would be easy and we didn't have to worry about curses and such?" Asked Potter with a sudden determination.

Severus leant against his desk. "Well I certainly would not have kissed back. Nor would I have touched you. I would not even have ran my hand over that body of yours. I would most definitely not have felt you up." There were a lot of other things, he certainly would not have done.

"Good thing I didn't do it then," smiled Potter slyly. He unfastened the belt of the robe and let it slid off his half naked body.

Severus had to take a really deep breath. "Oh yes, good indeed. We wouldn't want someone getting hurt."

Potter frowned, "No, you wouldn't hurt me." He pocketed his hands. His pyjama pants slid even further down. Severus could see a dark patch of pubic hair. Potter was smirking.

"Well I couldn't guarantee your safety either."

"What would happen to me?"

Severus shrugged, then his hand went under his shirt and he scratched his belly. He was satisfied to see Potter's gaze follow, then he licked his lips.

"Well first you would be thrown against these bookshelf. That's a couple of bruises to start. Then you might be pushed against it several more times. You head might collide with it as well. Even some books might fall on you because of the… banging. Let's not even talk about other marks, bite and grip."

"Oh Merlin, that doesn't sound half as bad as it should. Any injury that might bleed?"

"I'm no animal, Potter. I might be rough on the edges but I'm soft when it's necessary." Severus assured him.

"Soft?" Harry asked sadly, looking down on Severus' body, a smile flickering over his lips.

"When it's necessary yes. At other times, I can be so hard I can pierce through dragon scales."

Harry inhaled through gritted teeth. "Which are you now?"

Severus looked down on his body, then, on a whim, moved his hand down from his belly over his dark pants. He grabbed his cock, the fabric now perfectly outlining his rigid erection. "Let me know if you need a dragon pierced."

"We're making this really hard, aren't we?" Harry smirked smugly, seemingly not bother by the challenge, but his eyes were stuck on Severus' crotch and he was worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

"Oh love," Severus answered lightly, giving a small stroke to his cock, " _this_ has been hard for you for a long time." Severus wondered just how long they would be able to hold on like this.

Harry moved forward right that second, but a firm voice from above stopped him. "That is off limits for you at the moment, young man." They both looked up at the former Slytherin headmaster. Phineas Nigellus Black was smirking between his frames.

"You think I don't know that?" Potter sighed and stepped into the fire.

Severus looked up at Albus, expecting a lecture. But instead, the old man just smiled at him sadly, "How heart-breaking. I only wish you had this conversation _before_ you hired him."

"We wouldn't have been _conversing_ in that case, Albus."


	14. Chapter Twelve: Welcome to PaSta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini dictionary: Benvenuto a Bologna, Signori - Welcome to Bologna, gentlemen / ciao - hello / Passaporta - portkey / palle - balls / Atrio - Lobby / Madre - mother / Padre - father / papá - dad / bene - good

**Chapter Twelve: Welcome to PaSta**

**o.O.o**

Harry's feet slammed to the ground and he staggered to stay upright. A hand grabbed his shoulder, steadying him for a moment, but nothing helped with the swirling of his brain. He was sure if he opened his eyes, the world would be upside down, spinning like a carousal. He fought to keep his morning coffee down and tore himself away from the hand that was gripping into him. He tried to walk aside, though he had no idea which way _aside_ would be, but the pulling was great. He felt sharp pain in his knees and finally he opened his eyes.

The world was madly spinning, the marble floor beneath him was constantly moving, even his own hands seemed to be swirling with the floor, though he was definitely leaning on them. He grabbed into his belly and coughed, swallowing back the coffee. He closed his eyes again, and waited groaning quietly until the world return to its normal form.

"Fuck…" Malfoy croaked close to Harry, who looked towards the sound.

The blond was lying on the marble, rubbing his face. He must have been the one who had previously grasped Harry's shoulder, though now it seemed he wasn't attempting to help Harry, he just needed stability himself. Severus was a few steps behind them, leaning on his knees, his black hair falling forward. Ettore looked shaken too, but he was already smiling and walking towards them.

"I won't ever do this again," Malfoy said. "I rather fly a broom for a week. I rather even fly on one of those planes the Muggles use. Portkeys suck. Never again..."

"The dizziness should subside soon," Ettore assured them as he stood over both of them, holding a hand out for the young men. "Long distance travelling can mess with your system. The Floo is even worse, I assure you."

Harry believed him. He let himself be helped up, then after a few deep breathes, he finally looked around.

They seemed to be in an old factory building, abandoned and only half way finished. Concrete walls, grey and boring, electric cords hanging out of the ceiling. Dust and dirt everywhere, old newspapers, boots, opened cans and bottles and other different rattletraps littered the marble floor. Harry frowned, looking at the deep brown granite, which looked completely out of place in a building like this.

Then suddenly a loud bang shook the whole building. It was like those gunshots he had heard in the telly when he was a kid, only much louder. Voices came from their right and Harry noticed a group of merrily chatting people. Loud groaning came from behind him and he turned around. He found another group, these however were still laying around on the ground with their luggage scattered around.

"Just… where are we?"

" _Benvenuto a Bologna, Signori_!" Said an unfamiliar but kind voice and Harry looked at the curly black haired woman, who seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

Ettore went to her and kissed her cheeks, " _Ciao_ Mita! Do you never rest? What of your tiny baby boy? Who is taking care of him now?"

Mita switched to English, too, as she answer with a warm smile, "Mother took him to the park. He's finally big enough for the swings so now he never wants to come off," she shook her head, her curls bouncing in the air. She was a young woman, smaller than Harry but with the bushiest hair he had ever seen. She wasn't wearing any makeup but she was still very pretty, even though her uniform seemed slightly baggy on her. She was holding a clipboard with one hand and her wand with the other. "I'm going to need to see your wands, gentlemen."

Ettore pulled out his and held it out for her. She touched hers to it and a paper slipped out of the tip. "Thirty centimetres, olive wood, hippocampus hair," she announced for the hundreds times by the sound of it.

"Exactly," Ettore confirmed with a smile and she made a little note to her notepad.

"These are your British friends, right? Welcome to Italy, gentlemen," she nodded towards them. "You are currently at the International _Passaporta_ … uhm sorry, Portkey Station in Bologna, or as we call it, at PaSta. I am going to need to see your wands before I let you outside. Your wands will serve as identification for you while you are here in our country."

Harry handed her his wand while Mita spoke. She checked it quickly and made another quick note to her paper. "Before you wish to return to Britain we ask you return to PaSta and inform us or send us a pigeon of your departure date at least a day earlier, otherwise we might not be able to provide you with a portkey. But as I see," Mita eyed the newspaper Severus had turned into a portkey earlier, "You do not need our help with that."

"Most likely not, but thanks," Harry grinned sheepishly. Their method of travelling wasn't exactly legal, but it seemed their new friend didn't mind that regardless of her occupation.

"PaSta is closed between midnight and six o'clock in the morning, so make sure you plan your return well ahead. I would give you a pamphlet about the Secrecy Act in Italy, but in fact your laws are much stricter than ours, so just uphold those and you will cause less trouble than Italians. What else is there?"

While she was thinking, Snape and Malfoy also handed her their wands for a quick check. When they were done with that, she spoke again.

"Oh _sí_ ," Mita made a circle with her hand in the air. "You cannot Apparate here. Too much interference because of the ancient buildings. The whole place is buzzing with magic, believe me, you don't want to Apparate here."

"No Apparition?" Malfoy asked. "Then how on earth are you travelling around here?"

Mita looked at Ettore and smiled. "You are keeping your best features a secret again? Shame on you, Ettore," she laughed.

Ettore just shrugged. "It never came up," said the Italian with a mischievous smile then turned to Draco and other two men. "Our transportation should be out there already."

"Oh right, Paulo says, and I quote, 'the _bastardo_ is having brunch and drinking champagne at the Paradiso, but I didn't poison it. Yet.' I am not going to ask and I do not want to hear what you got yourself into again Ettore Serafini." Mita warned him with a strict look, before she handed Ettore something, which the wizard pocketed. "But know that Francesco is expecting you on his birthday next month and I'd rather not take him to prison just so he can see you."

"Even if it is about Bernardo?" Ettore asked with a raised eyebrow.

Mita watched him for a few moments. "Are you finally tearing off his _palle_?"

"And feeding them to him."

Mita grinned and Harry was surprised to see the evil twinkle in her dark eyes. " _Bene_. It was time." She pulled Ettore down into a firm hug and then kissed his forehead. "You take care, amore. We might not be married anymore, but I still love you, you hear?"

"What?" Draco hissed and in the sudden silence it sounded even sharper. "Married?"

"My friends, this is my ex-wife, Mita Capaldi. Mita, these are Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter and Severus Snape. She was my first wife. We were married for two years a couple years after I moved to Italy."

"Is… what's his name… Fernando yours?" Malfoy asked irritated.

"Francesco, and no. Mita remarried years ago," Ettore said with a soft smile and drew a hand around Draco's waist, pulling him closer. "Don't worry, _Drago_ , I'm all alone now."

Malfoy nodded coldly, but Harry could see the relief in the grey eyes. Mita was smiling at the two men, then another loud bang, probably a new group of portkey travellers Harry realized, reminded her that she was working here. "Go now. And report to me later. See you at the show tonight."

She ushered them towards the stairway and with a last, quick half-hug to Ettore and a smile to the rest of the group, she was running back to the spot Harry and the others had arrived minutes earlier. Just as the door closed behind them and they started walking down the stairs, another loud bang shook the whole building.

"PaSta has five levels," Ettore explained. "We were on the third level. That is for countries of the European Magical Union zone. Fifth is for larger tourist groups all over the world, fourth is for countries outside the EMU zone, second is for national travels, the first is for departures and this is…" as he spoke they reached the ground level. He opened the door and the sudden noise and brightness numbed Harry's senses. "This is the _Atrio_."

The lobby was bustling with all sorts of wizards and witches. Groups, smaller and bigger, individuals shouting after their friends, families saying goodbyes, children crying, people hugging each other as they welcomed them back home or on the contrary sent them off to somewhere.

There was no concrete here, or cords sticking out. Posters, advertisement, offers hung on every surface, covering the walls completely. Above them an enchanted ceiling showed pictures of exotic lands, sandy beaches, old ruins and Harry noticed with a bit of pride, the Scottish Highlands. Souvenir shops, cafes, perfumeries lined each other and the people like bees flew from one shop to the other, hands full of bags, slurping cooling drink, licking ice creams tall as Harry's head. Harry smiled as he watched the lively shops and the myriad of people; the energy of the place filled him up as well.

Ettore lead them towards a big glass door which slid to the side to let wizards and witches in and out. They stuck close to one another, Harry even felt a hand on the small of his back and realized it belong to Severus. This sent a rather warm sensation to his belly. And even a bit further down.

When they stepped outside the sudden warm air hit Harry in the head. Not a cloud was in the sky and the sun was shining brightly. Its rays seemed warmer now that he was not in Scotland.

As Harry looked back at PaSta, he wasn't surprised to see only a building under construction with holes in the walls, a lot of concrete and iron rods standing out here and there. Faintly, if he concentrated hard enough, he could hear the loud bangs that signalled the oncoming groups.

"So," Snape started with a raised eyebrow. "About that transportation. We are not using brooms, surely. It is still early morning and-"

"Oh. My. God," Draco moaned grabbing into Ettore suddenly.

Harry turned around to see what the blond was looking at with evident happiness.

"No, _mio_ Severus, not brooms," Ettore said with a smile. "You see, with Apparition out, we needed to come up with something. You are correct, brooms cannot be used during the daylight, besides they are uncomfortable when you have passengers or many packages with you. Some clever man realized however, that we do not have to come up with something new. We just have to adapt."

With that, he pointed at the two cars parked not far.

"You _drive_?" Snape snorted.

"Indeed, we do," Ettore laughed walking towards their transportation. "And with great pleasure, I might inform you. Italian car industry is famous both in the Muggle and the Magical world. Not to sound boastful, but our cars are the safest, fastest, most comfortable ones you find out there."

Draco looked as if he were seeing a unicorn as he approached the white Lamborghini. "Hello gorgeous," he said caressing the car. "Yours?" He asked Ettore.

Ettore shrugged and tossed him the keys. "It is yours now. If you want it, of course."

Smirking, Draco caught the keys in the air. "Just for the weekend."

Severus seemed interested in the other car, black as the night with a silver trident in the front. While the Lamborghini was the portrait of speed and power, the other stood for elegance and luxury. Snape stood over it, caressing it only with his eyes. He seemed mesmerized as he took in the sleek silhouette, the noble features, and the red leather inside.

Ettore stepped behind him and reaching over his shoulders, he showed him the key. "I knew you would prefer one of mine."

"What do you mean?" Severus asked, half way turned back. "That is yours too, is it not?"

Ettore laughed. "The Lamborghini is mine, because I purchased it. The Maserati is mine, because it is part of my inheritance. You see, Ettore Maserati, one of the brothers who founded the company, was my grandfather."

Gaping, Harry looked between the car and Ettore. "When… when you said your father travelled a lot and… and had a successful business… you didn't mean…"

"Yes, I did," Ettore smiled. "My parents met in our factory here in Bologna a long time ago. _Madre_ was daughter of Ettore, heir to the company. _Padre_ was one of the engineers. They fell in love and got married and after Ettore died they directed the manufacturing together. _Padre_ worked with designing the cars, _Madre_ handled the business. But my mother was old when she gave birth to me and the pregnancy weakened her. She fell ill after my birth and died soon after. Papá had to take over her part as well. When it became certain that I had no affinity in engineering, he started selling the shares. He partnered up with man, a Muggle. You see, here in Italy, it is not your blood that gives you a high prestige, but your wealth. This Muggle, rich enough to have power in the Magical World as well, acquired the majority shares in the company after my father had died in an accident. The company did well under his ownership, but his heir… he is slowly taking it to a downfall."

Severus leant against the Ghibli and crossed his arms. "And just what exactly was the name of this Muggle?"

"Why Severus," Ettore laughed. "How did you know? Sergio Governale, father of the man we are about to ruin."

"Is this some petty revenge?" Snape asked sharply.

Ettore shook his head. "Oh no. Alfieri, my father, and Sergio were best of friends. I loved Sergio like an uncle. My problem is with Bernardo alone. He is more interested in fashion than in cars, which would be all right, if he sold the company. But he does not and continues to make bad decision after bad decision." Ettore sighed. "Even if we ruin his career as a designer, he will still have the Maserati. Maybe this way, he will finally turn all his attention to his company."

"Aren't you just a bit too nice to your enemy?" Malfoy asked with a sneer.

"Do not forget, the Maserati was the company of my grandfather and his brothers. I want Bernardo out of the fashion industry, yes. I want him humiliated. But I do not want the company, my _family's_ company to vanish. But if Bernardo is not stopped, that is what will happen to it."

"So why exactly are we doing this then?" Draco asked, sitting on the hood of the Lamborghini.

"Think of this as taking down two pigeons with one stone," Ettore suggested. "I get my revenge, Bernardo will be out of the fashion industry by the end of the weekend and lose the major part of his money by the end of the month. But we are not cruel people. We give him a chance to get it back with either selling Maserati or by finally doing what he was supposed to do in the last five years and manage his own business." He looked around, his blue eyes turning from Malfoy to Harry then to Severus. "Are you still in?"

Draco shrugged, "I'm here only for the food and the show this evening. My men are already onto your model guy. So I guess that means, I'm still in."

"Me too," Harry nodded. "As long as Lumos and Hogwarts still gets the Florins, I'm in. And besides, if this Bernardo is really as bad as you say, we're saving the company, too. This is still all for charity."

Severus was the only one who seemed to actually consider the new situation. "I do not like this, Ettore. You kept information from me. Is there anything else you want to tell us?"

"Severus, I swear, this does not change anything. I have no intention to make Bernardo lose Maserati, as long as he actually takes over and deals with it. His reputation will suffer from an accusation like this, but believe me, this will go down quietly. He has half the media in his pockets. Everyone in my industry will know of it, because gossip on the runway spreads faster than the black plague, but the car industry is far from us."

"And what exactly is your plan?"

"I hold up Bernardo during the afternoon; I think we have just the topic to talk about. Harry meanwhile sneaks in his mansion. On the second floor, on the left wall of his office is a painting of his father. Behind that is a safe. The papers will be in there. I have seen him, and his father before that hide things in there. The problem is, Bernardo, like his father is perfectly aware of the Magical world. He has a kind of… sensor. If you use any spells inside the estate, the alarm will go off. Even something as simple as _Revelio_ and you will be stuck there. And do not forget, you cannot Apparate here."

"Inside the estate? Will I be detected if I disillusion myself outside?"

"You should not. But there are guards inside as well. The charm must work perfectly and hide you as you move. Not many can do that."

"I should be just fine," Snape said smugly.

"So let me get this straight," Draco laughed. "Decorated war heroes, Harry Potter and Severus Snape will be breaking into a mansion, guarded by, I assume armed, security and equipped with a Muggle alarm system, while not using magic, to _steal_ a bunch of papers from a safe they have no idea how to open?"

"It sounds a bit less feasible when you put it like that…" Harry agreed. "How will we open the safe without magic?"

"That I do not know," Ettore admitted. "Paulo, my friend gave me equipment for something like that, but I have no idea how to use them."

Hopping off the Lamborghini, Malfoy bowed his head theatrically. "Welcome to Muggle Studies one-oh-one, my name is Professor Malfoy and today's topic will be: safe hacking and disabling alarm systems."

" _You_ know how to hack a Muggle safe?"

"You know, Potter, Muggles aren't just rubber ducks and telephones. There's plenty interesting things out there in their world, too."

"Most of my professors would concentrate on the rubber ducks and the telephones, though," Severus commented quietly.

"My dear godfather, most of your professors aren't _Slytherins_." Draco looked at Ettore and pointing a finger at him he said with a sly smile. "Don't forget, Serafini, you're paying me extra for this."

With two steps Ettore was in front of him, fingers grabbing into thin, blond hair, kissing Malfoy hard. "Whatever you want, yours."

Feeling a rush of excitement, that reminded him of all the mischief he had committed during his school years, Harry grinned at Malfoy, "I must admit, I'm actually starting to appreciate Slytherin."

Malfoy smirked back at him. "Ten points for Gryffindor. Potter finally grew a brain."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI, Ettore Maserati was an actual person and had brothers with whom he did establish the Maserati company. But it was actually only a (lucky) coincidence that he shares a name with my Ettore. My Ettore was named after an Italian presenter, Ettore Andenne, who I only know from the game show "Jeux Sans Frontières" aka "Games Without Frontiers". Up until this very moment, I still haven't the foggiest why on earth I know this guy's name as I'm hungarian and therefore did not even hear him during the game show... Serafini comes from some random newspaper I read last spring. Oh and his looks? That's all David Gandy. Google this guy, seriously. Just... trust me and do it :) Eyecandy doesnt even come close to the reality :D


	15. Chapter Thirteen: Sneaking and Entering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini dictionary: Meretrice - Harlot / Orsetto - teddy bear / spiriti - spirit / illegale - illegal / grazie amici - thank you, my friends / cane - dog / che cazzo - what the fuck
> 
> I swear this isnt a Maserati commercial. But that car looks utterly gorgeous.

**Chapter Thirteen: Sneaking and Entering**

**o.O.o**

A tingling sensation crept up Harry's body, making his blood boil with excitement. It had been a while since he had committed any mischief and while curse breaking had offered some exciting moments it was the serene type of anticipation when he was intrigued by the mystery the cursed object provided and wished to reveal its secrets. But this was something else, more similar to the nervousness he had felt before breaking into Gringotts. He was itching for some action, to move forward in the plan but first they had to figure out what exactly _was_ the plan.

Ettore rubbed his hands together and pointed at the two cars. "There are a few things you will need to know about driving these cars. They are both magically engineered vehicles, which means Muggles won't notice them. Your uhm… what was it called, ah yes, Knight Bus runs with the same magic. Imperceptible and crash proof, meaning-"

"The objects will jump away from us," smiled Harry remembering his travels with the previously mentioned triple-decker.

"Indeed," Ettore nodded then looked at Draco and Severus. "Have you ever driven a car?"

"Sure," Malfoy confirmed with a casual shrug.

Severus seemed less confident as he answered, "It has been a while for me, but I believe I still remember the basics."

"You will remember with this car, that is sure, _mio_ Severus." Ettore said reassuringly, pointing at the Maserati. "It will work under you like a charm. The navigation system will show you where we're headed, just follow it. You could follow Draco too, but well, let's just say, the Maserati Ghibli was built for luxury rather than speed."

"And I intend to test that speed, my dear godfather. You could try to keep up," Draco challenged, "or just accept defeat and stay behind."

"I think, we'll be okay in the back," Harry grinned. "So where exactly are we going?"

"Home, of course," answered Ettore with a big smile, then walked to the Lamborghini and opened the butterfly door. "I need to change to my battle suit, while you two need to learn how to open a muggle safe."

Draco hopped behind the wheel and almost instantly the car started humming calmly. Harry and Severus sat in the Maserati too. Severus looked lost for only a second, then the car came alive with only a push of a button. Harry just watched him mostly in awe, never driven a car himself. After a few more assessing looks, Severus pushed the gear forward. He looked out towards the other car, then when he caught Draco's eyes, he nodded shortly.

The Lamborghini shot out from next to them like a spell, the engine roaring, its sound filling Harry's head. Severus smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Idiot…" he commented. The Ghibli hummed under them, purred like a black panther for a moment then Snape pushed down the pedal. They turned out from the parking lot and rolled into the buzzing roads of Bologna.

**o.O.o**

The drive to Ettore's home seemed to be long; the computer said the journey would take a bit more than two hours, but Severus didn't mind. Driving the Ghibli was easier than he hoped, moreover the car felt like heaven. He never enjoyed riding a broom, but driving was completely different. And driving _this car_ even more so.

They got out of the city fairly quickly, undoubtedly thanks to the fact that muggle cars seemed to be compelled to jump away from the Maserati, given all but an empty road to drive on. Severus had never even sat on the Knight Bus so this experience was quite new to him, but Potter did not seemed affected when some lamps moved aside to give place to the car. They went past the traffic jams as if flying over the myriads of vehicles. Severus only realized just how fast they were driving when he looked at the dashboard, the quick reflexes of the Ghibli and its almost silent engine were rather misleading.

After they got out of Bologna, it seemed they left behind the bigger cities and towns as well. The designated road lead through smaller villages rather, and empty fields. There was no sign of Ettore and Draco, however they couldn't be all that far away yet.

The quietness in the car was relaxing. The radio whispered gentle tunes, and the Maserati was so noiseless Severus could barely tell if the motor was running at all. Only the wheels on the asphalt made a soothing humming. Even Potter sat silently. He had kicked off his shoes almost half an hour after they set off, then put his feet up over the glove compartment. He was looking outside watching the passing scenery, one hand in his lap, the other on the sill, fingers against his temple.

The scene around them changed slowly. The fields became hills covered in vineyards, then the two-lane road narrowed to only one while they drove side by side with a wild creak, and a huge wall of rock on the other side. They turned left and drove over an old bridge leaving both the rivulet and the mountain as well. As the slim road lead uphill their speed dropped back. Severus rolled down the window to let in some fresh air.

The forest around them was noisy with birds and the air tasted of pines. The wind caught into Severus' long hair, but he didn't mind. The weather was much better in Italy then in England, warmer and more spring like.

He nailed his eyes to the asphalt but could not ignore Potter's not so subtle glances. After ten minutes, he rolled his eyes and looked at the young wizard. "What?"

"Nothing," answered Potter then smiled and looked out again.

"What?" Severus inquired again, sternly.

Potter just kept smiling, his eyes on the greenery outside. "We're in Italy," he stated then.

Severus gave him a weird look. "Yes, Potter, remarkable observation. A bit belated though, given we have been in Italy for quite some time now."

"No," Potter shook his head, then his smile turned into a grin. The next moment, a hand slithered onto Severus' thigh. "We're in Italy," repeated Potter with a meaningful look, his thumb brushing Severus's leg slowly. "Miles and miles away from England, from Hogwarts, from the Board of Governors." Then he turned his head outside again, yet conveniently forgetting his hand where it was.

"Whatever you are suggesting, I better hope you are not suggesting it."

"Just a thought," Potter shrugged casually, retrieving his hand.

Severus caught it and placed it back onto his thigh and, just to make sure it stayed there, he left his own on top of it, fingers caressing the soft skin slowly. Harry's lips were curling into a smile as he watched the trees they left behind. Severus just huffed, his eyes returning over the road, his hand staying over Potter's.

Soon they reached the top of the mountain. The huge pines disappeared on one side of the road, giving them a spectacular view of a valley beneath them. Vineyards were everywhere over the small hills, the grape leaves greened in the distance in rich colour. Cypress trees like spears stood out from the brown ground, and queued next to the grey road. On top of the highest hill, which was still nowhere near the size of the mountain they were driving through, was a beautiful villa, half of it however was covered from their view by a vast ancient tree. Behind it was an olive garden, the pale green foliage very distinct even from this far away.

"Do you reckon, that's where we're going?" Harry asked, his eyes on the fascinating landscape.

"I believe so, yes," Severus answered after glancing at the car's computer. The GPS said they were only twenty minutes from their destination and no other village seemed to soil the natural environment.

"Oh look," Potter laughed, pointing at a gleaming white spot somewhere on the road at the foot of the mountain. "The Lamborghini." His gaze followed the car until it disappeared behind the line of cypresses that lead straight to the villa. "I guess that really is Ettore's home," he sighed.

Severus eyed him for a second, then remarked offhandedly, "Reconsidering your loyalty already?"

Green eyes turned to him, swept over his whole body, and Potter smiled at him softly.

"Never," Harry announced as he patted Severus' thigh gently, who then lifted the hand to his lips. Snape kissed into the middle of Harry's palm and he nuzzled it before placing it back over his leg.

Potter left his momentary romantic surge without comment, but he couldn't hide the slight flush on his cheeks. Severus smiled to himself, trying to repress the warm coils in his heart.

They got off the mountain soon, luckily not meeting with any other car in the narrow, winding road. A rabbit watched them drive past, sitting uninterested at the edge of one of the curves, nose deep in some lush grass, only his fluffy tail peeking out.

Down in the valley, the cypresses seemed almost like if they had been carved out of stone. Wearing the same spear shaped branches one after the other, like soldiers saluting the arrival of the guests, right from the moment they leave the forest of the black pines.

Severus sped up again on the straight road and not five minutes later they were rolling on small white pebbles right in front of Ettore's villa. He parked the car next to the Lamborghini and before they could climb out, their host appeared.

Ettore ran out of the house, wearing a huge smile on his lips, Draco trailing behind him, walking leisurely with a glass of white wine in his hand.

"Welcome home," Ettore greeted them, bowing lightly, making an inviting motion with his reached out hand.

Severus surveyed their final destination. The vast tree that had concealed the view of the building from up the mountain was an old fig, its branches leaning protectively over the villa. Alders bowed on the other side, swaying softly in the gentle breeze. The house itself couldn't look more typical. Old, stone walls helped keep the inside cool from the Mediterranean heat, the windows narrow and few in numbers, and all covered with brown shutters now.

Archways bordered the shady hallway that ran probably around the house. The entrance was guarded by two hippocampus, Malfoy leaning against one of them. Their prancing figures looked powerful, carved out of pure white marble, to the last of the scales on their hindquarters. Their eyes seemed to thunder as they looked down on Draco, who stood right beneath them.

The villa wasn't nearly as big as Coco's, yet it still screamed luxury.

"Let me show you around," Serafini said and motioned towards the backyard. Severus and Harry followed him under the archways as they walked around the house. Severus spotted two cats lazily lying on the benches next to the wall, enjoying the shade and a third, completely black one that lay splayed out on the warm stone right in the middle of the hallways. Ettore, Draco and Severus stepped over it, but Potter of course, petted the animal, who turned on his back immediately and started to rumble like the Lamborghini's engine.

" _Meretrice_ ," Ettore huffed jovially at the cat, "I thought you do not like strangers."

Harry stood and the cat cast a disparaging glance at him for stopping the belly rubs, before it stood up too and walked towards its kind with elegant steps.

They rounded a corner and reached the backyard. They had a beautiful view of the surrounding vineyards and the lines of olive trees from the terrace, hill after hill as far as the eye could see. To the right of them was a big greenhouse, on the left, partly shaded by the old fig tree a pool, its water blue as the cloudless sky above them.

"Can I visit you during the summer hols?" Potter asked with a grin.

"You're always welcome here," Ettore laughed. "All of you."

They sat around the table, their wicker chairs nicely cushioned and comfortable. Ettore flicked his wand and a tray appeared with cool white wine, glasses and some cheese and grapes.

"Do you live here alone?" came the next inquiry from Potter.

"Not quiet," Serafini answered, and Draco snorted, lifting his glass. Ettore whistled, the sound sharp and short and the next moment a polar bear like creature dashed out of the house. It bounced around Ettore for a moment then bumped into Draco and finally visited Harry too. The massive animal stood with its front paws on the arm of the chair and basically hugged Potter. The incident explained right away to Severus, why his godson sat with his wine in the air.

Potter laughed and buried his hand in the soft white fluff.

"That is _Orsetto_ ," Serafini explained. "He is our shepherd around here. He showed up one day, gathered my cats into a group next to me with barks and some growling and the next thing I know, he is living with me, treating us as his herd. He is a free _spirito_ , really, a ball of cheerful fur. Menacing when you look at him, I give you that, but has the soul of a sheep. The fur is not the only reason they are called _sheep_ dog, I believe."

Orsetto meanwhile licked Potter's face and lowered himself back onto four legs, trotting happily to Severus. The dog squinted up at him; Severus frowned. "Don't you dare." Orsetto watched him for one more moment before he licked Severus' knee, and with a sigh collapsed onto the ground, propping his big head on Severus' feet. Two minutes later, he was snoring quietly.

"As I said, look of a bear, soul of a sheep," Ettore laughed, then he looked around their little group and turned serious. "I will be leaving soon. I am meeting Bernardo in his favourite restaurant in the town nearby."

He pulled out his olive wand and flicked it in the air over the table. The glasses full of wine and the cheese plate moved aside and another tap later a black briefcase appeared. Serafini leant back and watched Severus and Potter intensely. Severus noticed, Malfoy was doing the same.

"This is your last chance," Ettore noted quietly. "You can turn back now, and we will never mention this. I comprehend that what I am asking of you is wrong, not just because it is _illegale_. I am exploiting your hardly earned friendship with only a vague promise of payment. I also understand that this request is almost cruel towards one of you." He turned towards Severus as he continued. " _Mio_ Severus, you worked hard to clear your name, to undo the bad you have done in your youth and in later years. I _know_ this is a great step back in what you have achieved so far."

"Oh you do, do you," Severus remarked drily.

"What are you saying exactly?" Potter asked, his green eyes narrowing behind his glasses.

"You can step back," Ettore stated simply. "I will not hold it against you, I do not have the right or the will. I understand perfectly if you have second thoughts. You stay here for the weekend, see my show and will hear nothing about Bernardo."

Potter crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "Did you offer the same for Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter. "He didn't need to."

"Why?" Harry snapped irritated.

"Oh I don't know," Malfoy sneered, "Maybe because I'm not the Saviour of the Wizard World of Britain, because I don't have a reputation to lose, because I'm not a war hero, because the Malfoy name can bear a few more insults and because I'm only doing this for the fun of it, not for the money."

A cool wave of powerful magic shimmered out of Potter. "Do you think," he hissed turning to Ettore, "that I'm doing this because of the _money_. You can fuck your money, Ettore, I don't want a bloody penny out of this!"

"There is nothing else I can offer you," informed them Ettore.

"You do not have to offer us anything," Severus noted quietly.

"Why?" asked Ettore, suddenly confused.

Potter jumped from his seat, hands coming down hard on the table. Orsetto huffed and looked at the annoyingly shouting man, who didn't let him sleep. "Because in my world, _friends_ do these kinds of things for each other! Because they want to help you any way they can! Because it doesn't matter to them whether it's dangerous or not! Ron and Hermione stuck with me during the darkest times, risked their life over and over again and never asked anything in return, _that_ is friendship, Ettore! Not dinners at your Aunt, and fashion shows in Italy, and nice cars, but _this_ ," he said tapping the black briefcase with his finger. "Knowing that you can rely on us, no matter what!" He looked at Draco again, then leant over him almost threateningly. "And my _reputation_? Have you forgotten our second year, when everyone thought I was murdering Muggleborns? Fifth year? When thanks to you, everyone thought that I would be better off in a madhouse than Hogwarts? The whole fucking year when I was the most wanted wizard in the UK? Believe me, Malfoy, me and my reputation can handle a bit of tarnish."

"Good old times, eh Potter?" Draco smirked, but Severus knew him enough to notice the bit of fear in the grey eyes. He clutched his fingers around Potter's arm before he would jump Malfoy. Harry relaxed almost immediately and fell back onto his chair with an annoyed grunt.

"I must agree with Harry on this. My school has been functioning perfectly without your money so far, it can handle a few more centuries without it, I believe. And regarding my… achievements," Severus pulled up the sleeve on his left hand. "I still bare this mark. No matter what Potter and I said, when people notice this, they see only the Death Eater and not me. Which is why I do not care about people. I, however, care about my friends, who see me for who I am. I came here because you asked for my help. If you realized you do not need me after all, I will be off now – I have a school to run. Or you could stop being a dim-witted fool and comprehend finally that we are your friends and want to help you."

Ettore stared at them for almost a minute, speechless. Then his beautiful full lips turned into a radiant, warm smile. "I am touched. Truly. I do not… I do not know what to say even. _Grazie amici, grazie_."

"Do you want to hug it out," Draco sniffed, "Or can we get back to the plan?"

"Hug?" Ettore laughed. "A hug is not how you reward such generosity, _mio drago_. But unfortunately," burning sky-blue eyes swept over Harry and Severus, "they are unwilling to accept anything else."

"They better be," Draco huffed as he pulled the briefcase to himself and opened it. He eyed the content for a while, pulling out black and grey boxes that seemed alien to Severus. Then he frowned and nodded. "Well, Paulo knows what he's doing. But this isn't going to be a child's play. You won't be able to do it," he said then, his eyes on Potter.

"I learn fast," came the reply.

"Not this fast."

"So what, the plan is off?" asked Severus.

"No. But changing. That is no ordinary safe; this bastard must have some deep dark secrets in there."

"Why do you say that?" asked Serafini.

"A Muggle safe generally isn't really safe, you see, especially when it comes to magic. Even if it's digital, there is an actual key hole to it in case you forget the code. And a keyhole can be easily opened with an Alohomora anytime. For a long time, we ignored the development of muggle technology, but in later years, even we, Brits pay a bit more attention. We started to combine Muggle and Magic. Cars that fly and are invisible, telephones you don't need actual service for to call someone, a sensor that measures magical activity, you know what I mean." He pulled out a sleek black machine, a grey box, a bigger black one, and a smaller package made of plastic, then he closed the briefcase and placed it on the ground. "Our dear Bernardo knows of the Magical world and he knows how easily we break into any place, hence the sensor. But this bastard is so paranoid, he got a safe that has all three kinds of protection: manual, digital and _magical_."

"So we can't crack it?" Potter asked frowning.

" _You_ can't crack it," Draco smiled sweetly. "Which is why I'm going to go with you. I will need to be close enough to be able to close out any interference, but still stay outside the range of the sensor, because I'll have to do magic as well. Luckily, it's going to be the last thing. This," he pushed the small black box towards Harry, "is to be attached onto the safe, right over the number pad. I'll use the notebook to hack it, this is the easy part. Now however as the computer program goes through the possible combinations, the magic in the safe will sense the tempering and lock itself magically, too. This is why I'll need to hack its magic."

"And just how the hell are you going to do that?"

"Magic is something like sound, right? It _is_ there, even if you don't see it. This sensor here," he pushed the grey box forward, "is like the one Bernardo uses, it detects magical waves. They, too, have a frequency, which I can reduce. Think of it like soundproofing, only, I need to find the sound the magic in the safe makes before I can mute it. The problem is, I might have to go inside the range to cast the last spell and open the safe. Which means, there is a chance, we'll have to ring the alarm to open the safe."

"I will not allow that," Ettore stated, "those are dangerous people, even if muggles. I won't have you captured by them."

"No," Severus smiled. "It is not dangerous. These sensors, you said, they pick up any magic in their range, right? Which means-"

"You're coming inside, Malfoy." Potter cried as he look at Draco, wriggling his eyes. "You hack the code from right outside the range, then you drive in. No one knows you're here, no one knows you're friends with Ettore. You do the last spell right in front of the house and you let them see you do it. They won't know what it was, you just locked your car. The sensor will go off, but people will see _you_ perform magic, so they won't look for us. We get the papers and make it look like nothing ever happened, then we're out."

"And what do I say to them?" Draco sneered.

"Anything," Potter said. "Bernardo will be with Ettore. Tell them you're a new fashion designer and hoped to speak with Bernardo about your collection. They will tell you to fuck off and you will do just that."

"Feasible," nodded Malfoy. "But it's not going to be easy."

"When is it ever?" Potter sighed.

**o.O.o**

They found an old service route that lead towards the back of the Governale house. Snape was driving slowly, the black Maserati slid invisibly on the road. Harry picked at the little receiver in his ear.

"You sure this works?"

"Yes, Potter, it does," sounded Malfoy's voice right in his head. "But I'd prefer if you stayed out my ear, so please keep your mouth shut."

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes. "Children," he muttered to himself.

"I heard that," said Harry and Malfoy at the same time.

"I hoped you would," answered Severus with a sneer.

"You'll reach the zone soon," Draco warned them several minutes later. "You should stop right about now if you still want to cast any spells."

Snape stopped the car between two cypresses and they got out. Harry took out the little backpack from the backseat and checked it once more. It seemed they had everything they would need. He tried to calm his nerves but knew it was in vain. Instead he watched Snape as he spelled himself invisible.

The Disillusionment Charm worked perfectly and Harry smiled at the small vibration in the air where he suspected Severus to be. He tossed the backpack over his shoulder and put on his Cloak.

"Robbery in broad daylight," Severus huffed. "We are mad."

"We don't need the darkness to conceal us, Snape," Harry reminded him. "We're both invisible."

"I still feel like we are making a horrible mistake," Severus noted.

They started walking towards the house. According to Ettore, who had been at the villa many times, the back entrance should be open, given there were still some guards staying at the place, even if Bernardo was out on a lunch.

They passed a line of thick underbrushes, which was followed by infrequently growing wild trees. Not far ahead, they could already see their first test: a huge fence. Suddenly a wild shimmer went through Harry's whole body, and his hair prickled on his nape.

"Did you feel that?" Snape asked somewhere on his right.

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"What?" Came Draco's voice over the earplug.

"We crossed the sensor's barrier. No magic from here." Snape explained.

The fence wasn't too big but neither of them could climb it alone. Harry kneeled at the base of the thick stone wall and after checking the area he lifted the cloak enough for Snape to see where he was.

"I will throw you up," he said when he heard Snape's movements in the grass. Severus just snorted, then Harry could feel an invisible leg's pressure on his thigh.

"On three," said Severus. "One… two…"

At three he pushed himself up from Harry's thigh, while Harry gave his other leg a lift two. Momentarily, he grabbed into something rather hard and gave that a push as well. It was quite awkward doing it while both of them were mostly invisible but Harry couldn't hear a loud thud around him signalling that Snape fell back, so he hoped the man was up the wall.

"Was that your arse, I grabbed into in the end?" Harry giggled, reaching up two uncovered hands, waiting to be grabbed and pulled up.

"Yes," grunted Severus as his fingers clutched Harry's wrist.

Harry let out a pleased grunt, then pushed himself away from the ground, climbing the wall with his legs, while Snape was helping him from above. Once he was up, they both jumped off on the other side.

"Could you not discuss my godfather's arse right now, Potter?" Malfoy grunted.

"Why?" Harry asked innocently. "Do you have a problem with your godfather's arse?"

"I have a problem with _you_ talking about it."

"If you want to keep hanging around Severus, you better get used to the fact that I'm not just talking about it but also-"

"Enough, you imbeciles," Severus grunted before Harry could go into any more details. Malfoy was awfully quiet on the other side.

"Did I shock you?" Harry asked gleefully. His eyes were scanning the huge garden, which they were walking across. The green grass was precisely cut, the bushes all made into certain shapes. Not just circles, triangles and cubes, there were many prancing horses, elephants and even some bears.

"Don't tell me that you told Potter that you l-"

"I said _enough_ ," Snape said sharply before Draco could finish.

"Tell me what?" Harry insisted.

Snape just sighed, realizing that this conversation would go on whether he wanted it or not, so he chose a different method. "Draco, what's going on with you and Ettore? You seemed awfully jealous of him lately."

"I'm not jealous," Draco hissed. "And nothing is going on."

"But you wish something was?" Harry asked.

There was again some longer silence in Harry's head, while he realized they weren't the only ones talking. Snape seemed to notice the voices not far from them as well.

"I may have… realized, sending him away after the photoshoot was…"

"Idiotic?" Harry guessed, his voice low now.

"Not the correct action." Malfoy finished.

"Your love life is ever so interesting," Snape whispered, "but do shut up, now. We have guards around us."

They entered a well-kept garden area, where the bushes and trees weren't just randomly around them but organized around high hedges. The ground they walked on wasn't grass but white stone. Flowers of every colour bloomed from pots, hung down from over their heads, grasping into branches of tall trees.

"Fancy," Harry remarked under his breath.

The voices now were almost distinct. The men who talked, couldn't be more than five of them, didn't sound worried or alarmed. Their tone was light, their laughter loud. Even if Harry couldn't understand what they were speaking, he suspected there was a lot of teasing and general banter.

They turned left towards the big house, rounding a long, tall hedge when they finally saw the guards. Harry's heart missed a beat before he realized he was supposed to be completely invisible. He did check, just to make sure.

The men were only a couple of feet from them, all wearing white shirts, sand coloured slacks and a black weapon in a holster that Harry remembered to had always been called in Muggle movies a nine mm handgun. They were sitting around a pool, one was even dipping one leg into the cool water. They were all drinking something, sleeves rolled up. Luckily, they didn't seem to notice anything was wrong yet. Harry gave many thanks as he wasn't sure how well magic worked against guns. It was one thing to destroy the gun if it came to that, but to actually deter a bullet, one needed reflexes Harry wasn't sure either he or Severus possessed.

Suddenly, the conversation heated up and a tall, brown skinned man with curly hair that looked like a bird nest and who was clearly aggravated, jumped from his sun chair. He pointed at the door, explaining something in Italian. The man he argued with, probably his superior, pointed at the huge, beautiful house too, then at the others, then at the one who was standing. If Harry heard the Muggle right, he was called Franco, while the boss with his short blond hair and almost white skin, was Elio.

Franco seemed to have given up arguing. He downed his drink, dropped the glass on the nearby table and turned around mumbling, no doubt insults at Elio. The swearword ' _cane'_ left his mouth so many times, Harry made a mental note to ask Ettore later on what it meant.

They followed Franco on the white stoned road to the magnificent house. Harry almost stopped to admire the view, but had to remind himself, he and Snape had to stick together if they wanted to get this done as soon as possible. As his eyes were trained to see the small shimmer of air as Snape moved, he had an easier time, but the moment Snape stopped, Harry knew he would never find him.

Bernardo's house wasn't anything like Ettore's. While the latter seemed traditional even if equipped to serve the highest of luxury, the Governale Villa was absolutely modern. Huge windows and lot of white walls were decorated with pale brown oak wood beams on the outside. Franco opened a sliding door and walked in, heading left right away. Severus and Harry stepped inside as well and looked for the main stairs.

They were standing in a wide hallway. The air was cool, almost cold after the heat outside. Something was gently humming above them, Harry suspected it was an air conditioner. The walls around them were covered with paintings, some, Harry was sure, were masterpieces. Bernardo didn't seem like the person who portrayed the paintings of the local artists just out of the kindness of his heart.

He heard Snape move across the rustic grey-brown tiles that formed a helix some feet ahead. Harry followed the man like a shadow. Right in front of them was the front entrance, which meant, if there was a stairway upstairs at this part of the house, it is going to be opposite of the door. They reached a circular, smaller lobby and indeed on each side there were stairs leading up. They were covered with blood red fabric, which swallowed the sound of their shoes.

They heard Franco shouting something, and Harry turned back, but no one was coming. The word ' _cane'_ was again among the string of insults the guard was yelling.

"We should hurry," he noted ever so quietly, then felt as Snape grabbed into his arm. They rushed up the stairs and just as Ettore promised, right in front of the white railing, was a huge double winged door: Bernardo's office. Harry begged for it to be unlocked and his prayers seemed to have been answered because Snape opened the door easily, which didn't even make a sound.

Harry quickly shrugged off his Cloak and bag and pulled out the little black box. He watched as Snape lifted off the painting of an old, balding man with a small moustache, revealing a rather big, black safe. Harry placed the black machine over the number pad and pushed a button on the box, as Malfoy had shown him. The digital screen came alive right away, numbers continuously changing in a speed that Harry's eyes couldn't even follow.

"Now put the sensor anywhere on the safe," came Malfoy's instruction through his ear.

Harry did so, placing the little grey box on the middle of the safe's door.

"And now, we wait," Harry whispered.

Neither Franco, nor the others seemed to want to check the second floor, though Franco's anxious shouts were still popping up occasionally. Harry looked around, noticing Snape watching the other guards through the big window behind Bernardo' desk. It took a couple of seconds for Harry to realize what his brain was signalling as a red flag.

"You're showing," he said distressed.

Snape snapped his head at him and the fact that he saw the motion clearly, frightened Harry even more.

"What do you mean?" Snape asked back, looking down on himself as well. He was moving his hand in front of his face slowly, realizing on his own what Harry meant. The panic was written on his face.

"Draco, my Disillusionment Charm is fading."

"Oh. I hoped that would not happen."

"You _knew_ this was a possibility?" Snape hissed now rather frantic.

"The thing that I'm trying to do now, disturbing the safe's magical frequency? The device that signals the magic around there is also trying to do the same with yours. This thing could probably overwrite polijuice potions as well with some time."

"And what do we do?"

Draco laughed bitterly in their ears. "Nothing. Stay put and leave me to work."

Snape snapped up his head and was about to say something probably insulting when he froze suddenly. "We've got a bigger problem anyway," he said in a calm, soothing voice.

Harry was about to ask what the hell just happened, but then he heard the quiet panting from behind him. He turned around franticly, his Cloak still next to his bag on Bernardo's desk. Not that it would help.

"Oh," he breathed very quietly. "Good doggy," he said to the mountain of black fur, sharp fangs and drizzling saliva that stood in the open door motionless and watching them.

Slowly he started backing away from the animal, trying to get to Snape, as if the man would provide some sort of safety from the vicious looking creature.

"Any time now, Draco," Severus said gently.

"Hold on for a couple more minutes," Draco groused. "I think I might not even have to go in. Just… hold on and don't do magic."

"Maybe he's like Orsetto," Harry whispered as he bumped against Severus.

As if the dog wanted to prove he had nothing sheepish in him, he started snarling ferociously and made a threatening step inside the room. To make it even worse, they could hear Franco shouting again. Harry realized, ' _cane'_ wasn't at all a swearword. It meant probably dog. The dog that was standing right in front of them at the moment, cutting them away from the only exit.

"Draco, for fuck's sake, we're going to need to use a spell in about a minute, so you better hurry up."

"Just a second more," Draco grumbled. The safe suddenly clicked but before they could jump towards there, Draco cried, "Not yet. That was only the digital lock. I'll be done with stifling the magic in it in a minute. What's going on there? Is that growling I hear?"

"Just open that bloody safe," Harry murmured back, before he pulled out his wand and collected his bag and the Cloak from the desk. The dog was baring its fangs at him, growling madly and edging closer.

"Done!" Shouted Draco and at the same time the safe opened up. Unfortunately, the dog took that as a sign too and attacked. Harry flicked his wand and sent a Stupefy at the wild animal.

The alarm came up right away. It screamed in their heads, viciously tearing at their eardrums. Harry barely heard Malfoy's hysterical cries of, "Get out of there! I'm getting in, let's see if I can distract them!"

Snape in the meanwhile, were casting, "Geminio," over the papers, swiping the originals into Harry's bag, he had previously tossed at Snape.

Franco burst in the door as Harry put on his Cloak, Snape's immediate "Obliviate," sending him against the bookshelf. Harry was quickly ushered outside, but Snape lingered on for a moment. He lifted the painting back to its place and woke up the dizzy dog, leaving the room to look as if nothing had happened in there.

Men were shouting downstairs, screaming short orders Harry couldn't understand. They ran down, neither of them caring about being completely invisible. They passed through two guards, who were coming upstairs, but then almost ran into Elio. Harry felt a strong push coming from Snape sending him right across the hall and against a painting, but he managed to evade the guards' superior by a hairbreadth.

They ran through the hallway, the screaming siren way too loud that they should be bother by the sounds of their footsteps. Harry knew there was supposed to be at least one more guard and he was scared that perhaps that was waiting for them outside. But as it turned out that wasn't even the worst scenario.

The fifth guard barged in from the right, where Franco had headed when they came in. He was waving his gun, running straight towards them. Harry knew the collision was inevitable, yet he tried to step away, but the guard still ran straight into him. The force of the crash sent the man twisting in the air before he landed with a harsh thud.

Harry stumbled against Snape, who caught him just in time, leaning against a small mahogany table to dampen the force of Harry's body being slammed against his. The Cloak slipped off half of Harry's body, but he didn't have time to adjust it. They both managed to stay on foot and though they were slowed down, they reached the glass doors fast.

That was when the first bullet hit and shattered the sliding door.

Harry spun back, brandishing his wand and sending out an Obliviate too. His spell was just a bit too late. Other bullets followed the first, one hitting the glass again, the other flying straight into the side of his abdomen, most likely only inches from his kidney.

He felt the burning, but not the pain. Snape grabbed his arm, dragging him past the broken glass shards and finally outside. Harry kept running but looked back, and the burning over his hip intensified for a moment. He saw the guard looking around confused, watching his gun then the broken door.


	16. Chapter Fourteen: When in Italy

**Chapter Fourteen: When in Italy**

**o.O.o**

Harry let Snape haul him through the green garden, then the wide yard with the many shaped bushes. Panting, they rushed through the greenery, and Harry held on, sticking his gaze to Snape's back and nowhere else, not letting his mind go where it shouldn't.

Then they reached the wall. They hid behind an elephant bush and the next moment Snape already had his wand in his hand. He touched Harry's bloody shirt gently.

Harry looked down on the blood soaked fabric and the pain finally registered. The burning, screaming pain in his abdomen, up his right side, down all the way to his thigh. How on earth he got so far like this, he didn't know.

Severus kneeled down in the grass and placed his wand over the wound. His voice was shaking slightly as he started chanting the melodic healing charm, Harry had heard him use once.

"WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?!" Malfoy's screaming voice burst through the bubble the shock had created in his system and Harry almost fell over.

"We're… good." He panted.

"Thanks Merlin!" Malfoy groaned relieved when he heard Harry's voice. "Are you injured, Potter? Why is Severus singing that spell?"

"I've got… uhm…" Harry gulped. "A bullet in me."

"It's coming out," Severus noted gently, then went on with the chanting.

"I can deal with these bastards. I have a plan. You go back, see you before Ettore's show."

Harry watched as the wound drew back all the spilled blood. Snape lifted his shirt gently, still singing quietly in a deep tone that was barely more than a murmur. When Harry saw as the bullet slid out of his body, and dropped down Snape's held out palm, he almost fainted. The pain was gone, he didn't actually feel it anymore, only the echoes of it shouted still in his mind. The adrenalin still cursing through his body made him slightly lightheaded. He knew a few minutes later, he wouldn't even remember the feeling.

Severus looked up at him, black eyes weary and worried, then pressed his head gently to the completely healed skin. There was still no sign of pain, only warm skin against his and suddenly, Harry realized, having all these hormones in his system at this moment might not be a good thing. Severus kissed the spot where the wound had been and stood up.

"What's your plan, you imbecile? Come back, we're almost out," Snape told Draco through the transmitters.

"I said I have a plan," Draco hissed. They heard the distinct sound of the Lamborghini as it slowed down and stopped, while the engine was still rumbling deeply. "I've got a surprise for Bernardo."

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked. "We're good, we got everything. All the originals are with us. We can still take Bernardo down."

"I don't want to take him down, Potter. I want to eradicate him, like the vermin he is." Draco hissed. "No one fucks with my boyfriend but _me_. And now if you'll excuse me, I have a business offer to propose."

**o.O.o**

Severus was driving again on the winding, hilly roads. They were less than half an hour from Ettore's place. The heat of the spring sun almost roasted them in the Maserati, so he had pulled down the windows some time ago. Potter was awfully quiet next to him, but he didn't seem to be in any pain. He was about to ask if Harry's wound hadn't completely healed when Potter spoke.

"You reckon Draco wants to stay here?"

"Is that what you've been thinking about?" Severus asked back astonished. He huffed then, and noted murmuring, "Why did I expect questions about life or death or mortality? It's not like you have been just _shot_."

Potter laughed and looked at him. "And healed, remarkably. I don't feel a thing. And I think I stopped mulling over mortality and life when I died. You might remember it; it was a couple years ago, in the middle of a forest. There was this awful man; he had lost his mind. And probably his nose, too."

Severus snorted and blinked at Potter incredulously. "I am truly amazed that we reached a point when Lord Voldemort stopped being the darkest, most fearful wizard of the century and became a joke."

Potter shrugged. "Hermione always said, I have to move on. This is one of the signs of it."

"Draco won't stay," Severus said, answering Potter's earlier question. "Not yet. He might come back."

"You have to let him go," Potter noted quietly.

Severus raised an eyebrow and looked sideways. "You think I would hold him back? He's free to do whatever he likes after the semester is over. I can find a new Muggle Studies professor easily. Now, you on the other hand. _You_ will have to stay."

Potter grinned catlike, his hand slid suddenly over Severus' thigh again. "I was thinking again, Severus," Harry remarked, casually. "We're still in Italy."

"We would be better off if you stopped thinking," Severus noted, but didn't shoo away the caressing fingers.

"Oh, Severus," Potter sighed, green eyes looking at him intently. "If I weren't thinking of it, I would be doing it, which, I think is something you wouldn't approve of."

Severus thought for a second. Reasons and counter arguments chased each other in his head. Then a strong, deep voice pointed out: _you had just committed a_ felony _. And you're hesitating about_ this? He gave a side glance to Potter as he said, "Didn't you say it earlier, Potter? We're miles and miles away from England."

Potter's hand slipped down to the inner side of Severus thigh. His fingers stroked him lightly, almost hesitantly, willing to pull back any moment. "So you wouldn't mind?" Harry asked, his tone challenging.

Severus took a deep breath, his instincts already begging him to push forward and seek out that hand between his legs. "If I say I do, will you stop?"

Finger by finger the hand slowly moved fully over his crotch. Severus sighed deeply, but Potter just grinned, "Will you say that?"

Severus let his legs fall further apart. He swallowed hard as Potter palmed his cock still with gentle strokes. "No?" He breathed.

Potter had his answer, it seemed, because he pulled back his hand and sat up straighter in his seat. Severus turned to him, his expression questioning.

"Keep your eyes on the road," Potter said with a raised eyebrow, as he shifted, turning his body toward Severus.

"Objects jump _away_ from us. I could steer the car off the asphalt and you would only notice that the road became bumpy."

Harry smiled, tilting his head slightly to left. "Then make sure you stay on the road. You don't want this road to be bumpy, while I have my teeth near your cock."

Severus exhaled harshly. If he had any doubt about what Potter intended to do, now it all vanished. He grabbed the wheel with both hands and kept his gaze on the road. They were driving through a forest, the serpentine road that lead further up onto a hill decreased their speed significantly. Fresh, earth scented air blew in through the opened window. They hadn't met a single car in ages.

Severus' eyes slowly drifted back over Potter, who was still just watching him, his hands resting on his lap.

"The road," snapped Harry, with a playful smile and Severus turned his attention back forward and waited.

Minutes went by, he all but counted the seconds, growing more and more impatient. He knew Potter was still staring at him, but he denied to look his way.

Severus' whole body shivered when Harry finally drew a hand over his nape. Potter wasn't even touching him anywhere near his cock, yet he felt himself harden. Months and months of pent-up sexual frustration was suddenly all there between them in the car. Everything came back, from the chocolate courtesans, the birthday kiss on the cheek, to the moments after Potter changed into _Viktor_ , and more.

Fingertips gently rubbed the tense muscles around his nape, then on his shoulders. A thumb kneaded away the tension from his flesh, then drifted firmly over the line of his neck. Harry's palm shifted on his bare skin, his finger diving into thick black hair, pushing it away. Then Potter leant forward and placed a small kiss on the sensitive skin just beneath Severus' ear.

Severus heaved a sigh, his belly twisting and coiling.

"Promise me something," whispered Harry as his lips lightly traced his earlobe.

"Anything," answered Severus already breathless, which was absurd, given he was barely even touched yet.

"Sleep with me tonight," said Harry softly, as he pressed his forehead to Severus' temple. "Give me this one night. Just this one…"

Severus reached up, burying his right hand into the untameable ink black hair and pulled Potter closer. "There won't be any sleeping if I go to your room," he remarked quietly as if someone could overhear their conversation, but their transmitters were long gone from their ears.

Harry's wet lips touched to his ear, his hot breath ghosting across sensitive skin. "Good," Potter moaned, then he licked the edge of the auricle. "Very good."

Severus exhaled, his head lolling back against the headrest. "We shouldn't…" he added just because someone had to say it aloud.

Potter ignored him for a moment as his tongue slid out again and he licked a wet stripe along Severus' long neck. Then he kissed the skin again and asked, "Shouldn't or can't?"

"What does it matter?" Severus muttered, his tone thick with arousal.

Harry huffed jovially next to his ear, the deep sound sending a jolt of arousal straight to Severus' half hard cock. "Oh it matters. Wherever we are, I'm just your humble courtesan, Severus," lips slid tenderly against his jawline as Potter talked, "say the words, and I'll do it."

Harry nibbled his jawline, placing soft kisses on his slightly stubbly skin. Several words passed Severus' mind, none had a negative meaning. Hogwarts be damned, he would not stop now.

"Will you?" He asked back, looking down on Harry, who nodded slightly, as his mouth traced the front of Snape's neck now. He licked across the bobbing Adam's apple, his teeth scraped it lightly. Severus lifted his chin and let his lips pull into a smug smile. "Then do what a real courtesan does and please your king."

"How?" Came the breathless answer.

"Suck me," said Severus simply.

Harry hissed before his teeth sunk hungrily into Severus' flesh over his collarbone. His hands went over Snape's chest, shifting over the white shirt as he kissed the long neck, his tongue tracing the already wet skin. "Yes…" He grunted keenly. "Yes, my lord."

Severus breathed deeply, trying his best to keep his eyes on the road. The car beneath him hummed gently as they flew up on the hilly roads.

Harry's tongue sneaked beneath his collar bone and licked his sweaty skin. His hand rested over Severus' ribs, thumb and forefinger rubbing his nipple firmly through the fabric. Harry didn't seem to want to pay any attention to his cock yet, which made Severus even needier. He craved to feel Potter's hot mouth around him as it sunk down, swallowing him all the way.

But Harry had other plans for now, and Severus couldn't be bothered to mind. Slowly, he was being undressed, the white buttons on his chest undone on by one. Potter's mouth moved from his collarbone further down, licking over his slightly hairy chest.

"Shit," Severus grunted when Harry's mouth went around his nipple and sucked it in. His tongue toyed with the little bud, until it was hard, but he didn't yet let go. He scraped it gently with his teeth, then licked across the whole rosy flesh. He bit down then harshly, clinging to Severus with teeth, making the older wizard hiss wildly, as Harry's tongue was rubbing over and over the receptive flesh.

After his hand was done with the shirt, Harry shifted it over the naked skin, feeling the rippling muscles underneath, then down over widely parted legs. He caressed Severus' long thigh, firmly pressing down his palm, not yet moving anywhere close to his crutch.

Potter dropped his head further down, he was almost in Severus' lap. He never once took his mouth off Snape's well-toned belly, his tongue tracing the lines of protruding veins. Severus shifted in his seat, but his seatbelt held him back. Potter must have had the same thing on his mind, because the next moment Severus heard a clink, the car started beeping warningly and the belt slowly slid back up to its place.

Harry grinned back at him, his tongue making circles around Severus' belly button.

"One of these days, I'll make you unable to move, but just not today," promised the young wizard.

"All those stories from Ettore finally took effect?" Severus teased him.

Harry swiped his wet lips across Severus' tummy, then bit him harshly, before he answered vaguely, "He gave some ideas."

Severus couldn't respond, because Harry suddenly turned his head down and pressed his mouth over Severus' erection. Snape grunted harshly, his hands flexing on the wheel.

"Fuck, Harry, get it out… please," Severus muttered, his hips bucking up slightly against the pressure. It was too good already. The memories from that morning still lingered at the front of his mind. Potter's half naked body lit from behind by the green fire, his soft lips, his emerald eyes…

Potter straightened, grinning like a madman, said emerald eyes right on Severus. Both of his hands fumbled with Severus' black belt, unhooking the leather, then three fingers opened the button, before two pulled down the zipper.

Severus watched as Potter slowly bent back over his lap, his right hand caressing Severus' chest, the left pulling away the flies. Severus lifted himself slightly trying to push down his slacks with one hand. Potter came to his aid and together they managed to slide them down till the middle of his thigh.

Harry stared down at Snape's crotch almost for a full minute, his lower lips between his teeth, almost bloody from the bite marks.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," remarked Potter, his voice thin.

"Bloody hell," Severus groused, "if you are having second thoughts already, you better not even start."

"Second thoughts?" Harry laughed. " _Second thoughts_?" he repeated as he tore Severus' hand off the wheel and placed it over his own cock, rubbing his erect prick against Severus' palm. "These are the sort of thoughts I'm having, Severus. I'm getting hard seeing your still covered cock."

Severus smirked and took back his hand placing it on his junk. "You like this?" With well-practiced motioned he started rubbing himself, rearranging his cock so that it was pointing towards Harry and almost piercing through the thin black fabric.

"Fuck," Harry moaned through gritted teeth, his eyes wide open.

Severus reached beneath his briefs, sighing deeply when his fingers folded around his cock. He stroked himself with gentle moves, perfectly aware of the green eyes watching him keenly. He kept his eyes on the road but even so could see as Harry let his own hand drop into his lap, palming himself as he watched Severus do the same.

Severus let go of the wheel with his other hand, steering with only his knees for a moment, as he pulled his black underwear down, revealing his long shaft. Harry bent forward slightly, stuck between wanting to have a taste and enjoying the show. He dropped his head onto Severus shoulder and watched him stroke himself with languid moves.

"I want to taste you so bad," Harry moaned, but didn't move to take Severus between his lips, instead he unbuttoned and unzipped his own jeans and slid his hand beneath. He exhaled harshly. The hot breath escaping his lungs ghosted over Severus' bare neck.

"You do?" Severus asked, smile twisting his lips upwards. He rubbed the head of his cock with firm moves until it oozed a few drops of precome. He swiped it off with his middle finger and offered it up to Potter, "Here," he said, holding his hand close to Harry's lips.

Potter opened his mouth and sucked in the offered finger, bobbing his head slightly as he went up and down on the digit. Severus pulled away his hand after a short while, then swept Potter's spit on his erection. He pressed his cock against his thigh, and grabbed it in a reverse grip, jerking himself slowly.

"Do you like it?" He asked, nuzzling Potter's head, who was breathing hard. Severus glanced down to his crotch, Harry's hard cock was half-way out of his denims, Potter's hand moving smoothly up and down on it.

"Mmmm…" came the affirming answer as Harry bit into the skin on Severus' neck before he dragged his mouth all the way up over Snape's jaw, where he placed some more possessive bites.

Severus turned his head lightly and captured those sinfully lush lips in a brief, sloppy kiss. He wanted to devour the young man, but the road needed most of his attention.

Harry pulled away, and once again kissed his way down Severus' bare chest, this time however he reached his destination much quicker. As Severus' hand moved firmly up and down on his long, thick cock, another hand grabbed around the base. Severus shuddered even though he knew the upcoming contact would be much better in every way.

Severus let go of his cock and instead slid his hand into the unruly mop of hair, only inches from his dick.

"More…" mumbled Potter against his skin, just as he reached Severus' belly.

Snape wasn't sure if it was a plea or a question, but he answer it any way. "Yes," he moaned, as he slid his hand down on the side of Harry's head then grabbed his jaw, pointing finger slipping between full lips. Potter licked across the digit, sucking on the tip gently for a moment, before Severus steered him to his cock. "Suck it, Harry."

"Oh yeah," Potter moaned before he swiped his tongue over the head as his hand came up with a rough jerk.

Severus groaned ardently. "Ah fuck!" Harry's tongue went around and over the head, teasing the glans with light licks. Severus keened when the young man parted the slit with the tip of his tongue then swallowed the whole head into the wet heat of his mouth.

"Oh bloody h- _ahh_ …" Severus didn't hold back his cries; they were in a car, in the middle of nowhere, no one would hear him.

Potter pumped his cock, fingers sliding up and down, while he kept his mouth around the head, drool dripping out from the corner, dribbling slowly down on the long flesh until his fingers caught it and smeared it all the way, making his languid moves sleek. He pressed his head further down, drawing Severus' erection deeper down his throat.

Severus pushed his head against the headrest, his chest heaving, as Harry sucked on his cock. He caressed the black hair, soft as feathers, then the broad shoulders. His hand slid down over the curve of Potter's spine, just to go back up under the shirt. He wanted to feel and taste every inch of this young man, know his body as his own.

Harry's skin was so warm under his touch as if the spring sun had heated it. His muscles tensed as his mouth moved up and down on Severus' prick, while his hand jerked around his own erection. He rubbed the head with slow but firm moves, while his mouth was sucking just on the tip of Severus' cock, too. As his tongue lapped around the sensitive skin, Severus' fingers tightened on the wheel.

Potter licked his whole length, tongue running all the way down, then slowly up, taking its time, tasting everywhere. Fingers moved over Severus balls and cupped them, rolling them for a few seconds, as the hot mouth arrived down again. Then Harry licked his bollocks, while his fingers tried to move even further down.

Potter rose up, his bright green eyes watching Severus intently. "Slide a bit down," he said as one of his hands was once again fisted around Severus' hard penis, while his middle finger was rubbing the perineum.

Severus was already breathing hard, but the imminent prospects only made him harder and all but panting. He lifted his hips, pushed his legs wide apart and slithered a bit further down on his seat. As he edged lower, Potter moved his finger too. The digit was now poking at Severus' entrance, twirling around the wrinkled skin.

Potter leaned into his ear, his left hand leaving Severus' cock and instead being buried into his thick black tresses. His finger was still only teasing Severus, who felt like he was about to lose his mind. Or at least his patience. They were only fifteen minutes from Ettore's villa.

"Do you want it?" Potter asked huskily against his ear.

"Yes…" Severus moaned, eyes all but closing with lust. He kept staring at the road, but his mind was filled with Potter.

"Then promise me," groaned Harry. "Promise me, you will give me tonight. Just tonight. I won't ask for more yet."

Severus nodded, moaning at the pressure of the finger still just outside, still rubbing his entrance with small circles.

"Say it," Potter said darkly and the finger stopped. Severus pushed down, trying to slide around the long digit, but Potter pulled back. "Say it," he repeated.

"I promise," Severus moaned as the finger finally slipped in, smooth and wet.

"What will you do?" Potter asked, only his finger more eager than his voice.

"Fuck you," Severus grunted harshly, grabbing into Harry's unruly mane, his hips bucking up, while the finger moved in and out of him. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you will feel it during the rest of this bloody semester. And when you come, and I'm not going to stop. I'm going to bend you over the bed and fuck you all over again."

"Good," Harry moaned keenly against Severus' ear. Another finger joined the first and kept thrusting up his arse with fast, deep strokes. "What else?"

"Fucking- _ahh_ …" Severus cried as Potter brushed his prostate, every plunging thrust now ending with the fingers sliding against that maddeningly sensitive nub. "I'm going to claim you, Potter. I'm going to make you mine, make you understand what it means to serve a king."

"You forget, Severus," Harry chuckled, his tone deep and low as he spoke, "I was your birthday gift." He moved his lips against Severus' jaw, then neck, kissing his chest. "I have been yours for a while. You could have fucked me that night. I wanted that…" He twirled his tongue around Severus nipple, then bit down on it. Severus hissed wildly, his cock twitching madly, oozing precome. "I wanted to taste the Courtesan Au Chocolat off you. I wanted you to have me on that bloody kitchen floor."

Potter was over his cock again, Severus could feel his hot breath ghosting across his needy prick. Severus still had his hand fisted in that black mop of messy hair, in fact, he was gripping it so hard, he almost tore it out of Potter's sculp. He knew, he could just push it down and Potter would take him in fully, more than eager to do it again.

Instead however he lifted Potter's head and crushed his lips to Harry's. His own taste filled his mouth for a moment then it was all Potter. The kiss was brief but wild and he kept his eyes open – he had to if he didn't want to drive off the road. The fingers were still deep inside him, right next to his prostate, making every move send a jolt of pleasure through Severus' whole system.

"I wanted that too," He confessed breathlessly. "If you haven't accepted the job, I probably would have torn off your shirt and jeans and make you sit in my lap and ride me. I still can't wait to get rid of you. I can't wait for this semester to end. I want to be with you… Harry, I've wanted to be with you for so long…"

Potter hummed against his throat, it was almost like purring, then gave Severus a small kiss. The next moment his head was in Severus' lap again, mouth around the soft red head of Severus' cock, sucking it wildly. His tongue twirled and twisted around the glans, while his finger started moving again, fucking Severus hard.

"Oh fuck… Oh fff- _Harry_ … fuck…" Severus cried ardently. Before even the remaining part of his brain would give up the fight against pleasure, he stopped the Maserati right there in the middle of the road.

His left hand grabbed the headrest, while his right went into Potter's hair again, keeping Harry motionless as he thrust up into his hot mouth. Harry grabbed the base of his cock and started pumping him, keeping his wet lips around the glans.

With a keen and ardent shout Severus came hard into Potter's mouth. As the blinding sensation of his orgasm took over his mind and body, he was barely aware of Harry swallowing down his come and licking off everything that leaked out. He was still continuously jerking Severus, his tongue sliding over and over the sensitive head, licking even the last drop out of the slit.

"Give me a taste," Severus said huskily, and pulled Harry up for a kiss, this time, not being hurried at all. He tasted every nook of the hot mouth that only moments before was sucking the come out of his cock. Harry's tongue assaulted his, pushed through Severus' lips and thrust demanding into his mouth, claiming Severus' tongue in a fast paced dance. Hands gripped into his shirt, fingertips dig into his skin and Severus knew for sure that he wouldn't be the only one claiming the other's body. Sooner or later, Potter would be inside him, marking him and Severus only hoped it would be sooner.

Potter pulled away and sat back into his seat. He put his right leg up on the red leather covered dashboard and reached inside his jeans with his left hand, slowly massaging his balls. His cock was still only half way out, however, it was stone hard. Severus reached out, wanting to touch Potter, but Harry brushed away his hand.

"I thought we had a fashion show to attend," reminded him Potter with a grin.

"It's still hours away," noted Severus with a raised eyebrow.

"We should still be going. I'd rather not run into Bernardo. Or let Malfoy catch up."

Severus pulled up his underwear and slacks and tucked himself away, buttoning everything up.

"Leave the shirt open," Potter noted watching his chest avidly.

Severus smirked but left his white shirt undone. He pushed the button and the Maserati came alive again with a light humming. He pushed down the pedal and two seconds later he was driving over hilly roads again with their previous speed.

Harry pushed down his pants slightly, then his hands went back around his fully uncovered cock. One was toying with his bollocks still, the other pressed his lengthy member against his belly. He was sliding the flat of his palm over and over his whole length, his eyes all the while watching Severus.

Severus was breathing hard as he watched the erotic scene from the corner of his eyes. Then he realized, just because Potter didn't want his right hand, it didn't mean it had to be idle. Slowly, he started caressing himself, sliding his palm up over his chest. His fingers fanned out, nails brushing through the black hair that covered his chest.

Potter moaned lightly, and Severus smirked. He found his nipple and let his middle finger tease it gently. He rubbed the small nub, then flicked it a few times until it became fully hard, then he started caressing the sensitive skin around it. Then, he slithered his hand up on his chest and neck slipping his middle finger into his mouth.

Potter was grunting now as he watched Severus' tongue twirl around the digit. Severus put the wet finger back over his nipple and rubbed it again, watching as his finger ran slickly over the pink bud.

"You really wouldn't let me finish alone, would you?" Harry asked smiling, his head resting against his seat. He was licking his lips as he watched Severus' finger move. "Come on then. Touch me, Severus. Grip my cock and let me fuck your hand."

Severus took a deep, calming breath and put his hand around Harry's erection. The young man's hips pulled back towards the seat for a second then he slowly pushed forward.

Severus' strokes were slow at first, his grip hard, going down to the base of Potter's thick cock then coming up, covering the head.

"Faster," Potter pleaded desperate. "We'll be there in a couple of minutes. Please, fuck please..."

Severus noticed Ettore's house just over the hill, as well. They were almost at the straight road surrounded by cypresses. He sped up his motions, stroking Potter around the edge of the glans, his thumb teasing the slit. Potter grabbed the headrest with both his hands and pushed up his groin. He was thrusting between Severus' hand and the seat, his arse coming down hard against the red leather.

"Oh yeah… Severus… oh fuck yeah… faster please…" Harry groaned, his erratic moves almost frantic.

They reached the cypresses, the road was straight as an arrow from here, only some hills stood between them and the villa.

"Grab the fucking wheel," Severus ordered harshly and tore Harry's arm from the headrest, placing it on the wheel.

"What th- _oh fuck_!" Harry screamed as Severus bent down onto his lap and slid his hard cock into his mouth, tongue licking the head madly. Cheeks hollow from sucking, Severus looked up, his black eyes glinting. Harry's gaze darted between Severus and the road, his hips still bucking up, thrusting into Severus mouth unstoppably. "I'm gonna… oh fuck Severus… I'm going to come…"

Severus moved his fisted hand madly up and down as he licked the head, his tongue teasing it with fast swipes. Potter jerked beneath him, his cock twitching under his lips then he was coming hard, shooting his semen into Severus' open mouth.

Severus straightened up and took back the wheel, but his hand was still gently caressing Potter as he came back from this orgasm.

Harry hummed pleased and satisfied as he took Severus' hand and kissed the back of it. "This was…" he stretched languidly before he finished, " _amazing_."

"It would have been a mistake to let that possibility pass," Severus smiled. He caressed Harry's face gently as he dressed up again, then with a flick of his wand buttoned up Severus' shirt too.

Minutes later they drove up to the villa and Severus stopped the car. Ettore was waiting for them outside, roaming endless circles into the white pebbles, Orsetto walking behind him just as restless.

Severus couldn't even get out of the Ghibli, Ettore was standing next to him.

"Are you all right? Where is Draco?" He asked worriedly.

"Potter was shot, but I healed him. He's completely fine now," Severus answered with a light smile, while Harry agreed cheerfully. "And Draco… well, he has a plan. Please don't worry about him. There's only five guards and Orsetto's evil twin. Draco has a wand, he will be all right."

Ettore paled visibly as he looked at Harry, who was standing in front of him now. Severus got out too and leaving the windows open, locked the car. He gave the keys back to the mute Serafini.

"What do you mean _shot_? And what plan? Orsetto has a twin? _Che cazzo_?!" Ettore shook his head bewildered. "What is going on, my friends?"

"Why don't we have a drink, while we wait for Malfoy and we tell you everything in the meanwhile," Potter offered. He turned to leave and Severus followed him.

"Severus?" Ettore asked suspiciously, still next to the Maserati. His beautiful, ocean blue eyes were twinkling mischievously in the bright sunlight. "Why is my car smelling of semen and sweat?" Serafini's lush lips turned up into a smug smirk, the scar across them now seemed more highlighted.

Potter moaned, "Oops," but Severus just shrugged.

"You know I can't say I'm sorry, because I'm not."

Burning blue gaze swept over both of them and for a second Severus thought that there would be one more person tonight wanting to claim their bodies. But then Ettore just shook his head and laughed. " _Dio Mio_ , I will be hard every time I drive this car now," he said resigned.


	17. Chapter Fifteen: Invitation for Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, so I'm sure some of you are confused about what happened here yesterday. I edited the story a bit, change some minor things and the titles and then re-uploaded everything. So yes, you probably have read all the other chapters. This here however is an actual new chapter, and I hope you will like it. Sorry it took me so long. But thanks for staying :)

**Chapter Fifteen: Invitation for Revenge**

**o.O.o**

Severus stepped out of his newly assigned room on the second floor of Ettore’s home. There were five bedrooms on this floor and two bathrooms. His was on the top left side, right across from the stairs. Next to him was one of the bathrooms, then came Potter’s. Draco’s room was across from Harry’s, though Severus didn’t quite understand why Ettore even bothered to give him a room. Everyone knew perfectly where Draco would spend the evening and more likely the whole of tomorrow.

His room, just as everything else in the villa showed Serafini’s fine taste and need to surround himself with luxury. The cream coloured walls and the several mirrors made the room look brighter. The chestnut furniture with the sliver embroidery matched the colours of the wall, creating a pleasant, calming interior. A crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the white ceiling, its black iron arms spotless even though real candles stood in their cups. Right beneath it lay a huge soft carpet, and as Severus had walked through it barefooted after his quick shower, he couldn’t help but imagine Potter’s unruly, black mop of hair standing in contrast of the white rug.

There wasn’t any carpet on the hallway his feet could sink into, instead cherry wood parquet covered the floor. Paintings hung over the brick walls, the air cool and fresh. He leant over the railing and looked down on the living room beneath.

The faded brick wall continued downstairs and covered all the walls except one. There stood the bookshelves, eleven rows of various books along the longest wall. Black walnut cabinets positioned against the wall held some of the trophies Ettore had received for his designs. A huge cedar coloured couch sat in the middle of the room, big enough for all four of them and Orsetto to fit on it comfortably. As Severus walked down, a furry head did peak out from under the many pillows but it wasn’t the sheepdog.

Ettore’s cat, not the black Potter had patted but another, hopped on the back of the furniture and meowed loudly at Severus as she stretched lazily. The mewing continued until Severus gave in and went there to stroke the animal a couple of time. The feline looked almost like a miniature version of a leopard with her dots scattered all over her sleek body. Only her legs were striped almost tiger like. She was stunningly beautiful and rather playful as she rolled onto her belly and started snatching towards Severus’ rubbing hand.

Before he would be scratched, Severus pulled back his hand, but the cat would have none of that. She pushed herself away from the couch, latched her claws into Severus’ white shirt and climbed up his arm. She perched herself on his shoulder, meowed pleased then nuzzled Severus’ head. She combed his black hair softly with her paw as they headed outside.

Getting bored of the grooming, the animal huffed then lay across Severus’ shoulder, front paw stretching down on Severus’ chest, rubbing and kneading him, while the long striped tail flicked and waved against the middle of his back.

Severus sighed resignedly and walked out into the warm afternoon.

People were buzzing in the back yard following Ettore’s shouted instructions. The stage for the fashion show that evening was slowly taking shape. Severus was surprised to see that the catwalk he was supposed to walk on – which he still did not believe he agreed to and therefore continuously searched a way to back out of – would be over the enormous pool. The stage was made of transparent material, more likely thick glass or plastic. It winded over the sky blue water wide enough for two people.

Severus rubbed his head, thinking himself a fool for agreeing to this. Then again, Ettore did insist that he and Harry were the only ones who could wear the clothes. He wondered what it meant that the designs held Ettore’s magic. Was that literal?

Ettore jogged to him with a smile, then with a flick of his olive wand summoned a glass of cool, white wine for Severus. Snape accepted gladly, the adventures of the day making him rather thirsty.

“It will look great when we finish it,” Ettore explained. “The chairs will be all around the pool so everyone will have a good look. There will be floating blue candles and several glowing lights over the stage and around the terrace. The whole fig tree will be lit up.”

“And just how many people am I going to parade myself for?” Severus asked coolly.

“Not many,” Ettore assured him. “There will be about fifty people.”

“Our definition of ‘not many’ differs much,” huffed Severus, petting the cat on his shoulder.

“Generally, there are at least two hundred people in my shows,” Ettore told him. “However, this is special in so many ways, I cannot let just any vagrant see it.”

“Oh, so I am to humiliate myself only in front of the important people?” Severus inquired drily. “How reassuring.”

Ettore turned to him, his ocean blue eyes shifting over Severus’ whole body in a manner that would have made Potter raging with jealousy. “ _Mio_ Severus, humiliation will be the last thing that will happen tonight. You do not see what I see, _bello_. You do not see this body made to rule. You do not see this power craving to be set free. You are black fire, _mio diletto_ , and I will make you burn them to ashes.”

Severus had his doubts, but he didn’t voice them. Instead he just smiled. “I envy your confidence.”

“I could have shown you what I see when I look at you, but you refused for good reason,” Ettore reminded him. “I promised not to offer anymore and I will refrain to do so. So all I say is, ask Harry. Or better yet, look into his emerald eyes while you are moving inside him for the first time and see yourself reflected in there. You will be surprised.”

“What makes you think I haven’t slept with him yet?” Severus smirked looking the tall man dead in the eyes. “That he hasn’t crawled into my lap in your car and rode me just outside your gates?”

Serafini growled, his expression darkening for a moment. “That is unfair, Severus,” he remarked darkly. “I may have stepped aside, but that does not mean I do not want to have Harry around myself, do not crave to taste you, do not desire to feel you pressing inside me.” He heaved a sigh and petted the cat, too, the tips of his fingers touching Severus neck. “You are almost cruel for giving me such vivid pictures. I know you enjoy it and, Vergil forbid, so do I.”

“I would have enjoyed you,” Severus confessed quietly. “It would have been…” he exhaled sharply and the blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “A new experience. But I do love him. He’s more important to me than anything in this blasted world.”

Ettore watched him intently for a moment, then his grin brightening his handsome face. “You talk as if the world would end tonight. Have an open mind, _mio_ Severus, progress with the world. Loyalty is one thing – fun is quite another.”

Severus’ eyes narrowed. “Just what are you suggesting?”

“Oh,” Ettore laughed delighted. “I am not suggesting anything. I am just saying, I look rather handsome with only a bow around my cock. And I am sure, _mio Drago_ would not mind lending me out for a night.”

Severus laughed, suddenly remembering a dream with both Ettore and Harry. Warmness spread in his belly. “You would be surprised. Draco is a jealous creature when it comes to the important things.”

Ettore shook his head, his smile unwavering. “You think I have not mentioned you to him? I told you Severus, I am always honest with my lovers.”

“And he agreed?”

“What can I say? He is proud if others want to play with his toy. He doubts however that you two… would share.”

“He is quite right,” agreed Severus. “At the moment, I don’t think I would ever let you touch Harry, especially not when I am around. However, a few months ago, I didn’t think I would ever pose for a calendar. A week ago I doubted I could ever be talked into striding on a catwalk without an Imperius making me to do so. It seems to me that you, Ettore Serafini, have a way of making me do things I have never thought I would.”

Blue eyes twinkled in the afternoon sunlight and Ettore’s hand moved from the feline fully over Severus’ neck, thumb stroking the skin under his ear gently. “You do not mind if I feel a bit proud now, do you?”

“Not in the least,” said Severus softly. “There aren’t many people having such an effect on me.”

“Good,” Serafini smiled. “Rajah,” he said then and the cat raised her head. “Come now, _diletto_. Severus has to start dressing soon.”

The cat leapt from Severus shoulder and Ettore caught her in the air, making her curl around his neck then. “A word of advice for tonight, Severus,” Serafini offered, his tone now a bit more serious. “Those clothes you are about to wear are soaked in my _magico_ , interlaced, almost literally woven with it. They will… make you feel… how should I put it… different, perhaps. While _Severus_ brought out your true self, these clothes will bring out my… features in you. Wear them carefully, but do not resist. They will do only good for you.”

Severus nodded in understanding, though he was not quite sure, he indeed understood what Ettore was trying to say. Before he could ask for clarification however, something else caught Ettore’s attention.

Blue eyes stared over his shoulders, round now like the pool just behind them. The relief was clear in them, so was happiness. Severus didn’t have to turn around to realize whose footsteps he was hearing.

“ _Mio Drago_ , I was worried so much!” Ettore sighed and stepped towards Draco arms reached out for the man. Malfoy let himself pulled into a gentle hug and kissed thoroughly.

“There was no need for that,” he answered with a smile. “Is there a place here I could be alone?” Came the question then.

“Alone?” Ettore asked back sounding disappointed. “Sure,” he nodded then. “You can use my room, it is the one on the end of the second floor corridor. No one will disturb you there.”

“Thanks,” Draco said as he turned around and left them behind with only a small wave of his hand.

Watching his figure disappear behind the glass door, Ettore groaned something in Italian then added in English, “I do not understand him sometimes.”

“Funny,” Severus reacted. “In general he is rather easy to figure out.”

Ettore sighed one last time, then the smile was back on his face. “Shall we?” He pointed towards the door. “It is time for you to change, I believe. Mita should be somewhere here with the package already.”

Severus nodded and they set out looking for the woman and the mysterious designs.

**o.O.o**

Harry closed the door of his room behind him and turned towards the stairs. He wanted to look for Ettore and finally have a glance at the clothes he was about to wear for tonight. He heard footsteps and to his surprise Draco came towards him. The blond seemed unharmed which made Harry weirdly glad.

“Oh Potter, good. Come with me,” said Draco and motioned towards Ettore’s room in the end of the corridor. Harry frowned but followed him, curious how the Slytherin got away unscathed from four armed man.

They stepped in the room both stopping for a moment to look around Ettore Serafini’s bedroom. Coffee coloured walls were around them with the same elegant looking furniture that were featured in the other rooms as well, however these were all dark brown and turquoise. The covers of the bed, the soft cushions on the chair, the antique looking carpet on the ground all wore the same greenish-blueish colour that made Harry smile. Undoubtedly, Ettore had good taste.

Draco went to the desk and pulled out the notebook from his bag, placing it on the shiny wooden surface.

“Come here,” he motioned to Harry as he opened it and powered it up.

The computer started buzzing loudly for a second then the screen lit up and Harry watched it confused. There were noises coming from it as if someone was watching a movie on it.

“I’ve met Bernardo Governale.” Draco said smugly. “That’s why I only came now.”

“What? But why?” Asked Harry.

“So I can do this,” he pointed at the notebook.

Harry was about to ask what exactly _this_ was, when he heard a familiar name. Someone was talking to Elio, the boss of Bernardo’s henchmen.

“Is that… Governale? But… how?”

“I bugged his office,” answered Draco proudly. “When I arrived his men raided outside, waving their guns. I shut the car and let them see how I spelled it close with my wand. They almost shot me, but luckily, I managed to play the dumb. They didn’t remember you two, which was a good thing. It made everything easier. Good thinking there, whichever of you came up with that.”

Draco turned up the volume a bit so they could hear the conversation better. Harry realized it was in English but suspected that it was more likely because of Draco’s tempering and not because Governale used a different language while talking to his Italian guards.

“I told them I had a proposal to make to Bernardo and that I refused to move until I could speak to them. They only let me stay I think, because they were too afraid of my wand. Believe it or not, they made me wait out there in the scourging sun! It’s a miracle I didn’t get a sunburn!” He murmured.

“Oh yes,” Harry laughed. “You have to be careful with that milk white skin...”

“I let you know, Potter, that my skin is indeed very sensitive.” Malfoy huffed.

“I couldn’t care less about your skin,” Harry grunted. “What did you want to say to Bernardo once you meet him?”

“Honestly, I didn’t quite know just then,” laughed Draco. “But I had to get in his office to place this little thing somewhere.”

They listen to the conversation in which Bernardo was making sure that everything was in order and the alarm only went off because of “that Malfoy guy”.

“You gave him your real name?”

“Of course,” Draco said. “The Malfoy name still carries some weight.”

Harry pulled a chair closer and sat down as the conversation went on. They both listened quietly to the discussion, then a couple minutes later, Harry spluttered, “Do you want to leave Hogwarts?”

Taken aback, Malfoy looked at him, “What does it matter to you?”

“Ettore is my good friend. I don’t like it when people hurt my good friends.”

“I wonder who was hurt more…” Malfoy murmured.

“Just to let you know, it would be my great pleasure to kick your ass if you do hurt him again,” Harry informed him.

“I could say the same,” Draco snapped. “Betray Severus once more and it’s me you’ll have to answer. He’s been through enough; he doesn’t need you dragging him around.”

“I don’t want to hurt him, but you know it’s not so simple between us. I want to be with him, but we can't. There’s too much at risk.”

 “Oh, you mean your job?”

“Hogwarts, not just my job. He needs me to break the curse. That’s the only reason I’m still there and not in his bedroom.”

Draco was about to say something but then seemed to have changed his mind. He lifted a hand to signal Harry not to speak either. They both listened to the conversation which now seemed to be only one-sided. It was as if Bernardo was only talking to himself aloud. Then, after a second Harry realized he was talking to his dead father’s portrait.

“I did it father, finally.” He said proudly. “What you started a decade ago, I finally finished. Are you proud of me, father? Surely you are. Ettore Serafini is finished. The Serafini family will finally sink deep under the sea where they belong with that blasted fish-horse symbol of theirs. Tonight I will give that playboy the final blow that will surely kill him. Oh father, what a glorious day this is.”

Harry stared at screen surprised. He was aware that Bernardo and Ettore weren’t quite friendly but to speak about destruction like this, Governale must have hated the designer a lot more than he originally expected.

“I promised you father and now, here I am, finally. You killed Alfieri but it wasn’t enough and now I will kill Ettore for you. He will live and suffer to see his heirloom, his life, his magic die out as I take _everything_ from him. Will you be happy, father? Will you smile like you smiled on the day when you watched Alfieri Serafini burn in that fire? When his son came to you crying? Will you smile again, father?”

Harry’s eyes went wide, a sick feeling making his stomach turn and twist. He and Draco exchanged an astounded glance. Could it be true? Did he hear it correctly? He couldn’t shake the shock those sentences caused in him and he looked wide-eyed at Draco. Malfoy on the other hand looked triumphant almost.

“Kill?” Harry stuttered. “They killed Ettore’s dad?”

“I knew it,” Draco whispered glorious. “I knew it you son of a bitch.”

“What…? What is he talking about?” Harry asked, fighting an urge to throw up. He kept looking at the screen, hoping for a sign that what he heard just now was somehow fake.

“It wasn’t an accident,” Draco stated his fingers dashing on the laptop keyboard. “Remember, Ettore said his father died in a factory accident. I looked it up Potter.” He pointed at the screen, where now an article was displayed. It was a clipping from The Independent, its title saying, **FACTORY FIRE KILLS TWENTY-THREE IN BOLOGNA** “It was huge news about ten years ago, all major international newspapers covered it. The factory got set on fire, the whole building, and no one knew the cause of it. Among the twenty-three deaths were eleven wizards, the whole magical engineering team, and Alfieri, Ettore’s father. Don’t you think it’s weird, that wizards would die in a fire accident? I would buy it if it’s only one, maybe they didn’t have their wand in hand or something,” Malfoy explained. “But eleven? We survived a century long witch hunt and burning, every witch and wizard knows basic cooling spells. There’s no way they would die in a regular fire. Now, if it’s something magical… A Fiendfyre or something…” Draco looked at him meaningfully and Harry nodded agreeing with his logic.

“I looked into this, made some inquiries in the past, when I met Ettore.” Malfoy continued. “It just didn’t feel right, you know. And I was correct. It wasn’t just an accident, Potter. It was too convenient. Ettore has never been interested in the car industry, Alfieri was the only thing between Sergio and the majority shares of the Maserati. So they killed Alfieri, and Sergio and Bernardo got everything. In theory at least. But Ettore still kept some of the shares. He still had a say in the major decisions. Neither Sergio nor his son liked that so they started planning. But Sergio died before they could take the full company so, I guess, Bernardo swore to his father that he would destroy Ettore and his name. You heard him just now. He invested everything into his plan, he almost let the company he was fighting for sink into bankruptcy just so he can ruin Ettore. He’s a sick bastard and I will make sure he suffers,” Malfoy spat the last words sick to his guts no doubt.

“We have evidence, Malfoy, we can go with this to the Muggle police. Show it to Ettore, let him decide.”

“Oh no,” Malfoy smirked. “Ettore is way too soft-hearted for this. Just like you, he would give the man up to the Muggle police. You don’t understand this system. Here the Muggle and Wizarding worlds are more mixed than you would think. If Sergio had a wizard assassinate Alfieri, how long do you think it would take him to get out of a Muggle prison? I want Bernardo destroyed, Potter. I want to destroy his life so bad that being in prison would be better for him than living outside.”

“You sound as if he wanted your family destroyed…” Harry murmured thoughtfully.

Eyes grey as steel looked at Harry. “Remember, Potter, Ettore thought of Sergio as his uncle. He loved him as family. And that man laughed when Ettore, our Ettore, went to him crying after his father’s death. If that doesn’t make you want to utterly destroy the Governale family, you’re not the person I thought you were.”

Harry didn’t need to think about it for too long. “Let’s tear apart this asshole,” he agreed. “Do you have a plan?”

Draco watched the computer for a couple of moments, listening to Governale’s sickening monologue to his dead father. He wasn’t saying anything important anymore, and Harry suspected it wasn’t even him Draco was paying attention to.

“I can't drive there…” mumbled Malfoy.

“Where?’ asked Harry. “Where do you want to go now? The show is almost about to start.”

Draco looked at him, grey eyes serious. “I need Bernardo here. For the show. He needs to see the show.”

“Ettore would never let that happen.” Harry stated, sure of himself.

“We won't even ask.” Draco grinned, then his expression turned dark all of a sudden. “I need to know something, Potter. Do you trust me?”

Harry laughed at first then realized Draco wasn’t joking. “No,” he answered then. “I mean… you know… Not really?” he finished hesitantly.

Tilting his head a bit, Draco considered him then nodded. “Yeah, you're right, you shouldn’t even. But do you trust me that I want to best for Ettore?”

“Yes,” Harry stated.

“Good. Then get me Severus,” said Draco determined. “We have an invitation to deliver.”

**o.O.o**

According to Malfoy, Severus was in the backyard with Ettore when he had last seen him, so that was where Harry was headed. However, as he was running down the stairs, Ettore and Snape walked in. The designer was carrying a heavy looking box under his arm, which the Headmaster was eyeing suspiciously.

“Ah, Harry, just the man I am looking for. Come now with us, it is time for you two to change.” Ettore announced with a little smirk Snape clearly disapproved of.

Harry stared at the two men, trying to quickly come up with an excuse to talk to Snape alone, however, nothing came to his mind. “I uhm… Can I just have a… word with… uhm…” He stuttered and just as he opened his mouth to speak again, someone walked inside from the backyard.  “Mita!” He cried with a relieved smile.

The woman in question looked up at him surprised, however it was Ettore who said, “Ah well, _mio diletto_ , but I must ask you to hurry. We do not have much time left. We will be in Severus’ room.”

“Sure,” Harry smiled, rushing past them and grabbing the astounded Mita by the arm and dragging her back outside.

He made sure no one was around them, then turned to the woman. “You can make portkeys, right?”

Taken aback, Mita frowned, but then nodded yes. “Why do you ask, Mr Potter? I thought your friend can handle your key for your trip home.”

“He is busy at the moment, and this is very urgent. Can you make me a key right now?”

Capaldi laughed out loud. “That is not how it is done, Mr Potter. You need to sign a form and apply for a portkey through PasTa, I am afraid.”

“We don’t have time,” Harry tried to explain. “Please, Mita, this is about Ettore and Bernardo.”

“Oh what has that fool done now?” snapped Mita. “I told Ettore to leave Bernardo be numerous times. He is a dangerous man and one of these days, he will do more than ruin Ettore’s shows.”

There was concern in her voice, as he looked towards the house where her ex-husband was currently dressing Snape.

“He already did,” said Harry uncertain how much he should tell the witch. “He did something horrible and we need your help to make sure he can never hurt Ettore again. Please Mita, if you ever loved Ettore, help us.”

She ran a hand through her curly hair contemplating on Harry’s words. Then she put her hands on her hips and said, “I won't lose my job for a stupid cause.” She stated then. “But… I guess Ettore is still worth that much to me, so… Alright, Harry Potter, I’ll help. But only with one condition. You know something and you will tell me what it is.”

He watched the woman’s completely average features and thought for a moment, how much she did not suit Ettore. Though ambitious and pretty on her own natural way, Harry imagined someone completely different to convince Ettore Serafini to leave his playboy-ish lifestyle and settle down for a while. But he had to admit, there was something fiery in her.

“Alfieri’s death wasn’t an accident.” He explained quietly. “Sergio Governale had him killed to get the majority in the company shares. We have proof. We heard Bernardo say it himself. I need to go to Bernardo and deliver something to him.”

Mita’s face was suddenly overtaken by a plain expression. There wasn’t any rage or even surprise there just blank nothingness for a minute. Softly, she all but whispered, “Killed? Sergio killed Alf?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded.

Without any warning, Mita Capaldi exploded like a bomb. Her wand was in her hand spitting sparks madly while Italian words came streaming out of her mouth, her rage was suddenly almost palpable. Angry tears shone in her eyes, as minutes later she turned back to Harry, panting.

“That… that bastard,” she groaned, shaking. “He was _famiglia_! We celebrated Christmas together! Went to church together every Sunday! He was at the altar, when Ettore married me!” She went quiet for a second, then her expression darkened even more. “He wanted to adopt Ettore, did you know? Just so they can be a _proper family_ , he said. But it was a lie… all he wanted was the shares. It was _all_ a lie.”

She was crying as she pulled off her wedding ring and touched the tip of her white wand to it. “ _Portus_ ,” she murmured, her voice broken. The small ring flashed bright blue. “It will take you right to Bernardo’s office.”

“Thank you, Mita,” said Harry, but she raised a hand.

“Do not thank me, Harry. There is nothing thankful in this. This will break Ettore’s heart. He loved that man. He truly trusted and loved that man. My poor boy. _Il mio povero amore…_ ”

The ring in Harry’s finger warmed and started vibrating slightly.

“You will have fifteen minutes over there,” said Mite walking away.

Harry turned around and ran as fast as he could towards Ettore’s room to reach Draco in time. Luckily, the blond professor was just on the other side of the door and as Harry burst through and grabbed him, the portkey swept both of them away.

When his feet touched the ground, and he swallowed back the nauseating sensation in the pit of his stomach, he hoped it was from the short but dizzying journey and not his conscience was trying to tell him something. Looking around, he noticed he was back in the same office he robbed this afternoon. A little smile tugged on the corner of his mouth but then he heard a certain growling he would recognize anywhere. Orsetto’s evil twin was once again right behind him and Harry all of a sudden started wondering whether coming here was a good idea after all.

“Mr Malfoy, what a surprise,” said a collected, calm voice in front of them.

Looking up, Harry finally saw the man they came here to destroy. He expected a short, middle aged man, with a white moustache, wearing an elegant, tailored suit and a smug expression. All in all, what Harry expected was a sort of Italian mobster, he had sometimes seen on the telly when he was young.

Bernardo Governale wasn’t at all, what Harry imagined. He was standing behind his huge desk, sipping coffee from a small cup. Instead of a suit, he was wearing simple, but form-fitted, grey pants and a lighter grey shirt. He was clean shaven, his hair neatly cut, short on the sides, but left slightly longer on the top of his head. It was dark brown, like his eyes. He was about Ettore’s age, maybe a couple years younger. He had a polite smile on his lips at the moment but Harry could tell, it was fake. His eyes weren’t smiling, and Harry had a faint impression, it had been a while since Bernardo was truly happy.

“Apologies for the sudden intrusion,” Malfoy said, approaching the man. “I know it is very rude of us to break in to your home like this, but we came on an urgent matter. Well, it is an offer, of some sort actually. Hear us out, will you, Mr Governale.”

“ _Il nemico del mio nemico é mio amico_ goes, I believe, the saying. Go on Mr Malfoy. After your visit this afternoon, I am curious what you have to offer this soon.” Bernardo didn’t have any accent, Harry noticed. His voice was velvety and calm, and there was a certain amusement in it. As he motioned for them to sit, he beckoned the dog to himself as well. The brute lay down at his feet like a huge black rug.

“I have a little gift for you,” smirked Draco as he approached the desk. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. He held it out for Bernardo, who took it, looking mildly intrigued.

“And who is your friend?” He said looking at Harry, instead of opening his gift.

“Don’t mind him,” said Draco with a shrug. “He’s just here to make sure, I get out of here, even if you are not as hospitable as you seem to be.”

Governale huffed, his young, but undoubtedly handsome features softened by Draco’s honestly. Or perhaps, he just recognized the handwriting on the envelope. “From Ettore himself?”

“Open it,” Malfoy encouraged him with a soft chuckle. “You will appreciate it, I am sure.”

Bernardo opened the envelope and pulled out a small letter from it. Harry recognized it right away as he got a similar one himself couple of months ago. It was an invitation – and a portkey – to Ettore’s show tonight.

Bernardo’s brown eyes shined with excitement. He burst into laughter as he looked at Draco. “Now this, this shows me truly who you are Draco Malfoy. Oh this is truly evil. Genius but evil. The event was moved and as far as I know, invitations are limited. How did you get your hands on this?”

“As I said, Ettore thinks of me as a friend. And you know how generous he is towards his friends,” Suggested Draco with a small wink. “I can assume you will be there, correct?”

“Certainly,” laughed Bernardo. “To witness how that fool besmirches his own name? I wouldn’t leave that out for my life. There is only one question left, I think. What do you want for this?” He asked, fanning himself with the invitation.

“Just one thing,” answered Draco with a definitely evil smirk. “Sit in the first row and when he asks you who invited you, say my name.”

“That, my friend, I will do gladly,” came the response.

It appeared that the only thing Harry got right about Bernardo Governale was the smug expression on his face.


	18. Chapter Sixteen: A Job Well Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sometimes wonder if there's still anyone reading this, but if there is well first of all, hello and thank you, then secondly, I'm sorry if this wasn't what you signed up for. Some people already left because they didnt like Ettore, and I truly hope whoever is still here, was as excited about this chapter as I was. I feel I have to say this every time Ettore shows up in the story, but let me assure you, no matter what, this will remain a HP/SS story.
> 
> Also, good news, I finished the story, which means update will be more regular from now on. We only have two chapters left guys!
> 
>  ** _Mini Italian Dictionary:_** Dov'è lui? - Where is he? / favoloso - fabulous / mio - my / mio diletto - my dear / mio amico - my friend / mio bello - my beauty / voi bella creatura - you beautiful creature / cazze - fuck / mio Principe - my prince / magnifico - magnificent / mio amore - my love / Cazzo Madre di Vergilius - Fucking Mother of Virgil / Mio Dio - My God

 

**Chapter Sixteen: A Job Well Done**

**o.O.o**

The closer they got to the start of the show, the edgier Ettore became and Severus wasn't even surprised. Half an hour till the opening, and Potter was nowhere to be seen. Ettore thought he might have cold feet regarding the modelling, but Severus knew better. His fears were way worse. Draco was also missing and that never promised anything good.

He looked at Ettore in the long mirror in front of which he stood, and studied the man instead of the blue suit he was supposed to get used to. The remarkably handsome Italian features looked downright average now, as Ettore was sitting on Severus' bed, leaning on his knees with his elbows, staring into nothingness. His uneasiness showed through his anxiously tapping feet, and the way he rolled between his long fingers the cufflinks meant for Potter.

" _Dov'è lui_ …?" he murmured under his breath, more like a thought that slipped through than an actual question. He looked towards the door, but no one came through and the disappointment was clear on his face. Gone were the little wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled, only his forehead was ploughed by deep furrows.

He turned to Severus then, and when he realized he was caught, he schooled his features and stood up, his boyish smile back on his face, though his delight didn't reach his eyes. He buttoned the upper button on his charcoal suit, then straightened the dark grey material.

"You look _favoloso_ , _mio_ Severus." Ettore grinned. "That suit brings the best out of you."

Severus let him change the topic, knowing there was nothing he could say to reassure the Italian that Potter would be here shortly. He was certain Potter would never hurt Serafini intentionally. Whatever business he had with Mita must have been why he was delayed.

Ettore turned him back towards the mirror and admired him silently for a couple of minutes, though Severus had the impression that his mind was wandering somewhere else. "The midnight blue brings out the paleness of your skin," he commented then suddenly and Severus had to laugh.

"What is it, _mio_ Severus?" Asked the designer then, and newer lines were added to his already furrowed forehead. "Do you not like my creation?"

That wasn't the reason behind his laugh, yet he still considered the question and the man in the mirror. The suit dedicated to him this time was a full set in the colour of dark blue, – midnight, apparently – with two gold buttons, undone for now. Light lines, thin as a hairbreadth, made him look taller than he was. Beneath the jacket he was wearing a vest made out of the same material and a light blue shirt beneath that. His tie, blue, brown and gold, was knit into a perfect Windsor. On his feet black oxford shoes glinted in the light. Even his socks and underwear were Serafini's design, and he had to admit, he had never worn anything more comfortable.

"I love it, Ettore," he answered finally, looking into the ocean blue eyes that watched him in the mirror. "I'm laughing, because you think you can hide from me, when in fact, you are painfully obvious."

This time, it was Ettore who laughed. "I could not hide from you, _mio diletto_ , even if I wanted to. Not when you are wearing this."

"I might sense your distress, but I still don't know the thoughts that cause it. Have faith in Potter. He wouldn't betray you," Severus tried to reassure him.

Ettore closed his eyes and turned his head as if even mentioning it would hurt him and Severus could sense that indeed it did. But that wasn't was bothered the Italian the most.

"I still believe I am making a big mistake, Severus," said Serafini suddenly. "To show this," he motioned at him, "to them…" he pointed outside. "I do not know…"

Maybe because of Serafini's magic or some other possibility, but Severus fully understood what Ettore meant – and with that what these clothes meant to him. As he had dressed Severus, garment after garment, the Italian explained how he created the base for every show, however these clothes never got displayed. They contained his own magic, he said so this morning, yet now Severus understood what it all meant.

It was like a quite whisper at first, a feather-soft touch on his skin. It was gentle, friendly, playful. Yet, the more material was around him the more of the magic he felt. Suddenly it became something almost tangible, something alien, yet welcomed. If Serafini wrapped his arms around him, he wouldn't feel this intimate with the man. This magic was inside him, on his skin, surrounded his whole body and whispered gently into his ears, into his mind – it was asking permission and taking control all at the same time. And Severus surrendered to it, happily.

And then, as he put on the last articles of clothing as well, the magic started changing. The basic notes remained, there was no darkness or enmity, but more and more layers appeared. Want to claim, need to control, and a strong sense of sharing. Sharing what he owned, all the little things and the important ones as well. And according to Ettore what Severus felt, everyone would, once he stepped on that catwalk. Maybe not as intently, but they would.

"It takes a certain kind of bravery to show your true self to them, Ettore. And I greatly admire you for it."

"They will use it against me," he said quietly. "I more likely will not be able to continue after this."

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Because it needs to be done. Because the rest of the designs are not good enough," Ettore said turning to Severus. "If I just show those, I fail as a designer. If I do not show anything, Bernardo wins. But with these two designs, I can win. I can show Bernardo once and for all, that no matter what, I am better than him."

"I cannot explain why, but it feels wrong," sighed Severus and finally turned away from the mirror. "Walking out there wearing this is like… revealing you. Showing everyone something that is pure and letting them play with it. It is like as if I cut out your soul and parade it, just to show them, you once had it. Don't do it, Ettore."

"I cannot go quietly, _mio amico_." Smiled Ettore, though it was heart-breaking. "If I have to go, I will breathe fire."

"Why don't you leave the fire breathing to your dragon, Ettore?"

"Some battles you have to win for yourself."

"I wouldn't agree," chirped Potter standing at the door. "We told you Ettore, we're friends now. And I'm afraid that means you won't ever walk to battles alone."

"I was afraid, you have left me, _mio_ Harry. I am glad to see that is not the case. Dress now, I ask you, we have to hurry," he urged the young professor.

A sudden rush of arousal swept through his body and Severus was surprised for a moment. Then his eyes landed on Ettore, who was escorting Potter further into the room. Before he could ask anything however, Ettore spoke up.

"As I said, Severus, I am doing this because I have to, not because I want to."

Potter frowned at them both, but then he was pushed inside the adjoining bathroom with some undergarments and a towel. "Shower quickly, then come. I will dress you."

The possessiveness that ate Severus from inside was his monster alone, yet the previous desire did not belong to him. "Anything you care to tell me?" Severus asked with an arched eyebrow.

"You are actually feeling an echo of my emotions, are you not?" Came the answer from the Italian. "Shortly, so will Harry. It is partly because of that, why it is only the two of you I trust with these designs. Now you might understand that." The sadness that hid behind those blue eyes leaked out slowly as they kept their gaze on each other. Then, when he felt it too much, Ettore looked away.

Severus felt his shame. He stepped closer. "No one should be forced to open up so much to anyone, Ettore. It must be terrifying." He placed a hand on the designer's neck, thumb caressing the stubbly skin lightly. The second rush of arousal didn't surprise him, he actually expected it.

"I apologize," whispered Ettore as he finally looked back at Severus. His soul-crushing blue eyes were now dull. He looked tired and Severus did not like what he saw. "I cannot help how I feel, and I cannot stop you from feeling it."

He knew it to be true. It was like Legilimensy, only way worse. The spell caster could only see memories, as if watching pictures, but a memory would never convey the feelings behind it. This however, having this magical connection between him and Ettore transferred the pure and unaltered emotions, as raw as Ettore felt them. And that meant, at the moment, it was crystal clear for Severus what Ettore wanted. But the meantime, Ettore was also aware of the connection. Severus felt sorry for him, and admired him all at the same time. To willingly go into something worse than mind reading takes a certain courage Severus knew he did not possess.

Closing his eyes, he leant in and placed a chaste kiss on Ettore's lips. He could feel the small scar, which ran through the soft skin.

"Fear nothing, my friend," he said, pulling away, fighting a certain burning desire he never felt before. How could he, the thought occurred, when it wasn't his before. He looked into the ocean blue eyes, and was glad to see the dullness was gone. Temptation was back with full force though, and now that both his and Ettore's need cursed through his veins it was harder to resist. "Your honesty is what I have always liked about you."

"We will see about that in a few minutes," said Ettore running a hand down Severus' chest, gently pushing him away. The need dissipated, but wasn't gone entirely. It was there like a constant murmur, like the sound of the ocean. "Won't we?"

As if on cue, the bathroom door opened and Potter walked out. Ettore was still watching Severus like a hawk, his blue eyes never leaving the black ones. "I can feel it, too, you know." He whispered, leaning closer. "Just by looking at you when you watch him. It is, oh, so obvious, _mio bello_ , how I missed it in the beginning, I must have been blind," he sighed then and turned to Harry, looking at him as he spoke, though his words where still addressed to Severus. "Then again, can you blame me. Your sight is truly breath-taking after all."

Then something hit Severus, just as Ettore looked over the half-naked young man, his gaze moving from his head to toe, taking in the broad shoulders, the well-defined muscles, the groin covered only with thin white boxers. He moved closer, stalking Potter as if he would be a pray, circling around him with slow motions not to chase him away. And Potter stayed where he was, looking dumbfounded, his stare bouncing from one man to the other.

Severus watched with eyes narrowing as Ettore walked behind Harry and placed his hands on his professor's bare hips. Severus groaned, his whole body shaking. He had never felt anything so clear, yet confusing in his life. Every emotion inside him was something familiar, yet they had a certain spice to them. He did not know what to do, or whether to even react anyhow. He just watched as Ettore slowly moved his hands up on Potter's naked skin and smirked over his shoulders.

His mind could barely decipher all the emotions he was feeling; rage, desire, jealousy – all his, or were they? They all felt familiar, and yet empathised to a newer level, one, he could not control. Or more likely, _didn't_ want to control. It was all too much. An intense wave washed him away and he didn't fight it, just let go and floated there in the middle of the storm.

And the worst was, he absolutely liked it.

He walked closer – the sight of Potter in the arms of Ettore Serafini luring him in. Potter's expression was gradually changing, his confusion giving place to something else, but Ettore still had that smug smile on his lips, head slightly bent down, so he could look up through his long eyelashes as his mouth slowly drifted towards Potter's ear. Whether it was a hot puff of breath or a quiet moan that escaped, Harry noticed the Italian's intentions before he would be touched.

He jerked away immediately and Severus doubted there was anything on this world that would have pleased him more than that little movement. It told him much more than those questioning green eyes could ever say.

"What's going on…?" Potter breathed finally, but no one answered him.

Severus was still advancing, restrained step after step. His answer was to the unsaid question from Ettore. "You are making it hard, undoubtedly, but I know what I want."

"There is only one thing, I am making hard, _voi bella creatura_ , and that is you and only you."

Laughing, Severus drew a hand over his chest, indicating the suit he was wearing. "Did you forget already?" He asked, then tapped his temple with his forefinger. "I can feel you, Ettore, without touching you. And so could Potter, would he step back just a little bit."

His gaze snapped to Potter now, then he nodded once, letting a small smile tug on the corner of his lips. And Potter, like the good little courtesan he was, did as his king commanded. He moved and pressed his back against Serafini's front.

Green eyes gone wide, Potter gasped. "Good lord…" He breathed, while Ettore just exhaled slowly. "He's… he's…"

"Hard, yes," said Severus calmly. "Do you want to feel it?"

"Is this a joke?" Potter snorted and pulled away from Ettore, but Severus just smiled softly.

"I mean it, Potter," he said and stopped. "Do it. Touch him. I know you want to. And so do I. I want to know what he feels. I want to know if the longing we both feel can be increased."

Carefully, Potter finally moved. His hand shifted from his sides and slowly moved behind him. He was eyeing Severus, trying to figure out, when he would be stopped, when Severus would tell him it was enough.

But Severus did no such thing. He watched with avid interest as the soul crushing blue eyes moved from his person down and Ettore followed the route of Harry's hand. His penetrating gaze zapped between Severus dark stare and the slowly inching hand that slid on his thigh, waist, then finally slipped onto his cock.

" _Cazze_ …" Ettore groaned, instinctively pushing against the tentative fingers. It took him only a moment, and his patience snapped. He grabbed Harry's hand, pressed it down on his hard cock, while he thrust his hips forward. Potter purred in his arm, tilting his head as Serafini kissed the line of his neck.

Severus was dizzy. He felt every touch on Ettore's cock as it was his own, which was now hard already, its bulge clear under the midnight blue suit. Potter's green stare was fixed on it, his lips curving into a smile.

He headed towards the other two and when he finally reached them, he whispered, "He wants us, Potter," he turned his head to Ettore and smiled again, but only teasing. He felt a certain hesitation that wasn't his. "He wants your ass where your hand is."

Ettore's hand finally stopped roaming on Potter's naked chest and Severus placed his palm over one of them, and pressed gently. "But what do we say to other gentlemen who would like to fuck us, Mister Potter?" He asked as he pushed the two men backwards until Ettore's back knocked against the bathroom door.

"Yes, _mio_ Harry. You say, _yes please_ ," hissed Ettore leaning to Potter's ear. The young man shuddered as lips traced his earlobe and went down his neck and so did Severus as he followed that dark, intense gaze Serafini was giving him.

Potter removed his hand from Ettore's crotch and instead grasped into curly hair. He arched his back, pressing more against Ettore, then grasped Severus by the neck and pulled him closer.

"No," chided Severus against Harry's lips. "That's not what we say…" He leaned against the door with a hand, trapping both Potter and Serafini there.

"It should be…" Ettore breathed and Severus grasped Potter by the hip with his other hand and pushed him back, pressing him right against the Italian's erection given by the breathless moan both men uttered by the contact.

"It is _not_ ," he growled looking into ocean blue eyes filled with pure desire, then kissed Potter wildly, claimed him, marked him as his and his only. However, for the first time, his desire for his young professor was overruled by something else, something much feral. Ettore's emotion, amplified and echoing his own wishes was a far greater force he ever encountered in his own mind. And it was a force he not necessarily wanted to get rid of for now. He enjoyed it, at least a part of him did. He always knew how much Ettore wanted them both, yet now he could feel it too. It was a powerful sensation and power had always been something that excited Severus.

"Oh god," Potter moaned between raw kisses, clutching Severus' hair. "You two are mad… both of you…" he groaned pressing closer to Severus in one moment, then pushing his arse against Ettore's hard cock the next.

"Mad for you, _mio diletto_ ," whispered Ettore, then looked up, searching for Severus' dark gaze. "Mad for both of you."

Severus kept his eyes open, training them on the Italian even when he was kissing Potter. "Is this what you wanted, Ettore?" He asked quietly.

Ettore just laughed darkly as he replied, "Not even close yet, _mio_ Severus. Ask me again, when I am deep inside you, when I can see you submerge in the pleasure my cock will give you. Ask me, when these pretty little lips," he grabbed Potter's jaw and lifted his head, thumb dragging over the plump lower lip, "will surround your cock, when you will finally give voice to your blazing lust and rational thoughts will abandon you completely. Then and only then will I have what I wanted."

"Oh god…" Potter hissed, his green eyes shining. He was searching for Severus' gaze and when he found it, he smiled, biting into Serafini's thumb.

"He wants to fuck you, too, you know," said Severus as he leant to Harry's other ear. "That night in the library, every word I said would be true to him as well. I can feel it right now, Potter. He wants to taste you, make you scream in pleasure. He wants to slide inside you then watch you beg. That's how he is, Potter. He loves to give, but first you have to ask."

"Should I just take perhaps, _bello_?" growled Serafini then grabbed Severus by the neck and crashed those beautiful, plump lips to Severus' mouth. It could barely be called a kiss, it was too wild, too primal. But it must have been a sight, because Severus could hear Potter's fast breathing and feel a hand slither in his hair, grabbing into a fistful and holding him where he was.

"Oh fuck…" groaned the young professor, and Severus bit into Serafini's lower lip hard, then pulled back and kissed Potter who whimpered desperately between them, his slim, naked body moving back and forth.

"I know this is only a game just yet, fuelled by my design and that is fine," Ettore grunted, his arousing Italian accent so heavy they could barely understand him. "But now I know you want me. Modest you might be, blaming it on loyalty, but I tell you both now, there will be a time, when you truly mean all this. When you will come to me and ask. And I can tell you, what I will give you two, you will never forget."

Ettore grabbed Severus' hand that was on the door and guided it to something equally hard. Potter moaned fervently when two hands pressed against his barely covered cock, while Severus did the same but because of a different reason. Ettore's emotions changed inside him, and the possessiveness was almost maddening. He could finally sneak a peek at the man who would whip someone or make them bleed, who had no problem demanding what he wanted. Suddenly, he wasn't in charge anymore. Ettore took control and with that his emotions cooled down a bit as well. It was confusing as Severus could still feel his own lust raging, but this was something else.

"Severus, make him come." Ettore ordered. "We barely have any time left, and I will not make him go out there this hard. He is nearly on the edge, are you not, _mio_ Harry?" He added sweetly when he turned to Potter.

Severus looked into the ocean blue eyes, so alluring once again, filled with dark desire. He growled, not wanting to share something that was his: Potter's pleasure-filled groans as he came, his face in pure ecstasy. His hesitation must have been written on his face, because Ettore spoke again, before he could.

"It is either you, or me, _mio bello_. Will you let me have what I want, or hold on for a bit longer?"

"This is all you will ever have, Ettore. Once this suit is off me-"

"Do not fool yourself, Severus," Ettore said smugly. "You had a taste; a taste of me, of the three of us together. And do not tell me you do not find this delicious." He rubbed Severus' hand to Potter's leaking prick.

When Severus didn't say anything, just stared at him speechless, he went on. "Or do you truly want me to leave? There would not be any rancour between us, I assure you. Say it and I obey. After all, there is a slight chance of me being in the wrong here."

"You're not," it was Potter who said it in the end, not him. The green eyes read him like an open book at the moment.

"It is him, who needs to say it, _mio diletto_." Ettore murmured into Harry's ear, but his beautiful eyes were still on Severus. "He is currently sensing my feelings as well, but he is still in control of his actions, you see. He might be more receptive to ideas now, though… Is there anything you want to suggest to him, _mio_ Harry?"

Severus watched the green eyes, feeling the hard erection under his palm twitch in excitement. He leant closer to Potter, tilting his head slightly. "Is there, Potter?"

Potter played with his tie almost shyly for a moment, then looked up through his old, round glasses. He kissed Severus softly as he whispered, "I really don't want to go out there hard…"

Ettore chuckled, Severus all but moaned as a reaction. He captured Potter's lips in a searing kiss, letting one hand roam freely on the smooth skin, while the other was pressing down on the needy cock, fingers moving roughly.

"Don't be shy…" teased Ettore. "Tell him what you want."

"Make me come, Severus," came Potter's unabashed order. "And let him watch."

For a moment, Severus felt surprise but it wasn't his. Looking at the Italian he still managed to catch the astonishment in the handsome face, but there was something else there as well: triumph. Severus could understand that. He could also feel it wash over his whole body.

As he stood there in front of the almost naked Potter a memory from long time ago surfaced. And at that moment, he finally realized that Ettore had been playing with them all along. He did tell them in the very beginning, didn't he? A part of him wanted to laugh and he did let out a soft chuckle as he skimmed Potter's cock roughly through his underwear.

The young professor moaned weakly. Ettore rested his hands on his waist now, perhaps to steady him. His hungry gaze was watching Severus, who caressed the outline of the long shaft with smooth even movement for now. "Do you remember that evening when he made us watch him suck Draco?" Severus asked from Potter.

A knowing smile appeared on Serafini's lips.

Potter just nodded, his eyes were long closed. He was licking his lips as he tried to withhold his ardent gasps.

"This was his whole game, Potter," said Severus and turned his gaze to Ettore now. "You do not even care if neither of us will ever sleep with you, do you?"

" _Mio Principe_ , you two were made for each other. What kind of a man would I be to force myself into an embrace that is already whole?" Smiled Ettore kindly. "You are correct, the fact that I will not sleep with either of you I have accepted long ago. But you said yourself this afternoon, I make you do things you never thought you would. And that is good, Severus, that is _magnifico_!" His enthusiastic voice made Potter's eyes open as well. "Life needs to be lived and enjoyed. There is freedom in new experiences and all I wanted is for you two to be free. And if you won't let me set you free, I'll teach you two how to liberate each other and unleash your potential."

"Free us…" Potter mumbled. "I don't understand?"

"Look at us, Potter," Severus smirked. "I'm about to make you come, while another man is watching us. Does that ring a bell? That evening with Draco, Ettore told us he would show us his way."

"I wanted you to learn that submission sometimes requires the greatest strength, while Severus had to absorb the idea that true dominance is not just about whips. And look at you two now. Harry, _mio amore_ , you are bare and standing here like an exhibition. You obey him without a question, let me touch you as long as he wants it, even if you would rather have him only. You see it now how hard it is to shed all layers of decency, do you not? And Severus, _favoloso_ Severus, look at yourself, do you recognize the man you have grown into? Do you see the king who only wants to serve?"

With a sigh, Ettore let go of Potter and stepped away, walking towards the door. "My job here is done," he said then, his hand on the doorknob already. "I have shown you my way, and I do hope you will not forget it. It was a pleasure to watch you realize your love." He added with a soft smile. He was halfway out of the door when he looked back, his smile turning playful on his lush lips. "I'll give you some time, but do hurry up, we will start soon and Harry needs to be dressed."

Harry and Severus shared a glance and that was all it took for them to agree on their next action.

"Ettore!"

"Wait!" They cried at the same time and the Italian stopped on the threshold.

"Why don't you…" Potter stuttered looking at Severus for help.

"Stay," was all Severus could press out.

Ettore stood at the doorway, motionless and utterly confused. Severus wasn't sure what to say or how to ask for what he wanted and besides, it wasn't even his job to ask for anything. He was here to give pleasure, and gods, did he want to do just that.

He removed Potter's cock from its confines and made sure to keep eye contact with the mesmerizing blue eyes while he slithered his hand on with a firm touch. Potter's hand reached out towards the Italian expectantly, while he leant his head on Severus's shoulders. They both watched Ettore intensely as the designer hesitantly stepped back inside the room and closed the door behind him.

" _Cazzo Madre di Vergilius_ ," he groaned under his breath. "You two are full of surprises."

Potter smiled and made a beckoning motion with his finger. Ettore reached him and took his hand in his. He placed a gentle kiss on Harry's fingers and looked at Severus. "I am honoured." With that he took back his place behind Harry. Immediately, Potter pushed back against him, wiggling his taut ass against no doubt still hard cock.

"What are you waiting for, Severus," Ettore smirked. "I thought you were about to give me a show…"

Severus growled at him, but knew Serafini was only teasing. He moved his hand on the velvety flesh drawing pleasurable sounds from Potter. Harry was holding onto Ettore's waist, making sure Ettore didn't stop rutting against him. Serafini had no intension to stop gyrating his hips though, even if he was busy playing with Potter's perky nipples, tweaking them between his thumb and forefinger.

Moaning, Potter pushed forward, his wet cock slipping through the headmaster's tight fingers easily. Severus circled his thumb on the head, smearing precome then lifted it to his lips. Just as he was about to lick it, Ettore grabbed his wrist. "Did I not earn my taste?" He grinned.

Severus pressed his thumb against those sinful lips, tracing the small scar. Ettore licked it, moaned harshly, then sucked the digit into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it, wetting it amply.

Severus groaned too now as he imagined those lips around his own cock. How he would go through this night with hopefully only half hard erection during the show, he did not know, but he couldn't wait to fulfil his promise to Potter. He keened to be inside the young man more than anything at this moment.

His fingers back around the stiff cock, Severus kissed Potter, feeling him moan in his mouth. Hand slithered in his long hair and grabbed him by his scalp, while another shifted on his back, dragging lines into his suit. Potter – Severus was sure it was him – grabbed into his ass and pulled him closer.

"Oh fuck, you're so hard again…" Potter noted breathless. "I want you in me…"

" _Mio Dio_ ," moaned Ettore. "I would kill to witness that. But there is no time…" he added miserably. "Push him down," he suggested then in a playful tone. "Make him kneel for you, Harry."

Hands grasped his shoulders and Severus could feel himself being pushed to his knees on the soft white carpet. He looked up to see green and blue eyes staring avidly at him.

"If you do not finish soon, it will be me who soils his clothes…" Serafini was back at Potter's ear, whispering. "Does he not look majestic, Harry? Can you see the need in his eyes? Won't you give him what he wants?" Came the sinful suggestion.

Ettore was like the little devil sitting on Potter's shoulder and of course, Potter was listening to every word he was saying. He grabbed into Severus' long tresses, taking a fistful of it, and murmured, "Come on, don't be shy." He watched with a pleased smile as Severus took a hold of his cock and started stroking him slowly. "I could never get bored of this sight..." Potter sighed. "I don't think you have any idea how utterly debauched you look right now. Gorgeous… but debauched."

Severus just smirked, then swept the tip of his tongue across the leaking head. Potter whimpered, but let Severus dictate the pace. He licked the whole length of the shaft, slowly dragging his tongue up and down, then when he made the top the third time, he took it all in his mouth going down on it as deep as he could. It was Potter who gagged from the pleasure, not him. His breath hitched, his moans died in his throat. He cried out loud, and Ettore echoed his delight.

Potter reached behind and grabbed into curly hair again with both hands. Ettore kissed him on the neck in reply, then dragged his lush lips along his shoulder. His hands though found Harry's nipples and he played with them freely, pulling shudders from the young man as he circled the sensitive nub with the tip of his fingers, his touch gentle like feathers.

"He is worth a kingdom, is he not?" He asked Severus with a smile. One of his hands drifted down on well-toned muscles, dancing on soft skin, wandering into dark pubic hair, but instead of taking hold of Potter's cock, he slipped his fingers into Severus hair, brushing it back out of his face. "Can you feel how hard it is to step away and let you two enjoy each other? I know it is what I must do, what I should be _happy_ to do… and yet there is envy in me, I deny it not. I want you both so bad it hurts."

Severus could feel it of course, the envy so strongly present within the swirl of emotions inside him, it was all but his. He removed his mouth from Potter's cock and held it with his hand again, jerking his fingers around the long shaft tightly, thumb twitching against pink head, smearing pre-come and spit as well.

As if reading his mind, Ettore touched his wet lips, stroking him gently, almost with hesitation. Two fingers slipped into his mouth and Severus sucked on them, tongue dancing with the digits. He made sure they are wet enough when Ettore pulled back, knowing where those two fingers would be momentarily. And indeed, the hand disappeared between Potter and Ettore's body and soon bright green eyes went wide.

Severus took the hard, twitching cock into his mouth again as he heard Potter's breathless pleading, then reached between the two legs, rolling heavy balls on the palm of his hand, before finding Ettore's wet fingers at Potter's entrance.

Harry's needy whimper filled the room as both men teased his hole, their wet fingers sliding over and around the puckered skin. Potter was not nearly wet enough yet though and Severus was not surprised to feel the tip of Ettore's olive wand touch his finger. He didn't hear any spells but the slick moistness made him sure there was enough lubrication before he pressed a digit inside. Ettore followed him, and Harry cried out again.

"Merlin's balls… I can't… Oh god, I can't…" Potter was pleading, his voice rugged.

"Fuck his mouth, Harry. Thrust between those beautiful lips for me," came the new instruction from the devil and whimpering, Potter followed the advice. He pushed forth, grinding his hips between Severus hot mouth and the two fingers in his arse belonging to different people. And at that moment Severus understood how far he had truly gone since he met Ettore Serafini. Never in his life would he allow to another man to touch his lover, especially not Harry Potter. And yet, here he was, letting Serafini do this without even a slight concern. And he didn't just let Ettore do it, he enjoyed it himself as well. He had probably never been harder.

As his finger was smoothly gliding in and out of Potter, he slipped in another one easily just as Ettore doubled his efforts as well. Four fingers moved now into Potter sometimes with the same exact rhythm, sometimes switching, one man pulling out while the other tried to push even deeper inside.

Potter could barely stand; his body shook wildly with every move.

"Severus, _diletto_ , are you shy now all of a sudden?" Came the murmured question from Ettore, his accent heavy, his English barely understandable. His gaze was fixed on Severus' lap. He licked his lips then raised his ocean blue eyes.

Without a second thought, Severus let his hand drop to his crotch, and massaged his cock through his expensive suit, but Potter's words stopped him. "No…" he groaned. "Take it out. Let me see you…"

Ettore moaned agreeing so Severus obeyed willingly. Hungry eyes watched him as he unfastened his belt and unzipped his pants. He reached inside and pulled out his hard cock, surprised how much pre-come covered it already. He returned his mouth to Potter's neglected cock and started sucking him again as he pumped his hand around his own cock.

His fingers were almost bruising hard around himself, but he felt he was so close, he would come even before Potter.

"How does it feel, Harry...?" Ettore growled. "Having two men serve you, hm? You must love these fingers in you, _mio amore_ , you are so tight around us, we can barely move." His blue eyes were on Severus as he spoke; Potter's were tightly shut. "I wonder would this be enough to make you come? Finger moving, sliding rubbing against that sweet spot, or perhaps that cock in Severus' hand which is so hard for you? Could we make you come untouched?"

A part of him knew the words were addressed to him and not Potter, but the sudden wave of need surprised him. It was once again Ettore's feeling now crystal clear, like his eyes.

" _Dio Mio_ , I am sure I could. With the two of you anything is possible. All I ever thought of was to have one of you. Never did it occur to me that I could have two cocks inside me instead of one," he hissed. "Have you ever felt that Severus? The sensation of another man's hard member sliding against yours in the tight heat of your lover?"

That image and the sensation attached to it was all Severus needed to tip over the edge and come hard into his hand. Serafini watched him with a satisfied smirk, Potter's stare was only fuelled by lust. He was still half dazed as he listened to Ettore's quiet, encouraging words to Potter, who was groaning louder and louder.

"Oh fuck… I'm gonna… Oh fuck Severus I'm going to come…"

"Good," Severus smirked lazily, twisting his tongue on the head of Potter's cock, sliding his hand, which was still sticky with his come, around the twitching shaft. Potter didn't need more than a minute and he was spurting his spunk onto Severus' tongue and face. Serafini was murmuring a string of Italian Severus couldn't have distinguished even if he had the mind to pay attention, but the sensation he could feel through the Italian's magic was of aching lust.

Breathing fast, Potter was leaning against Ettore as Severus finally stood up, tucking himself away. His knees were hurting and cracking from the long kneeling, but he didn't mind.

"Oh _mio_ Severus," Ettore moaned as his gaze shifted up and down on him. "Look at you, _amore_ , you are the definition of debauchery. Your hair a mess, your suit undone, and semen stuck to your luscious lips... People say I have no control," he growled dangerously, "but if that would be true, you would be already holding on to that mirror and watch me as I wildly thrust inside you."

Severus wasn't pressed against the mirror but Ettore did grab into his hair as he bent over Potter and licked the young man's come off his lips before he pushed his tongue into Severus' mouth and kissed him just as wildly as his words promised.

"We really need to hurry now…" he said then. "The show is about to start and you two do not look presentable at all."

"It's your fault…" muttered Potter, looking at Severus. "A couple of cleaning charms would be welcomed." He added then when he realized he was wandless.

"Mine?" Severus inquired. "I was ambushed just as you were. You think it's hard resisting him when he looks at you that way? Well try resisting him when every inch of your body feels how much he wants to fuck you…"

"Boy, I need a suit like that…" Potter grinned.

"You will get it as soon as you cleaned yourself," Serafini promised him with a mischievous smile, then turned to Severus. Two flick of his wand made Severus feel clean as if he had just taken a shower, while a couple more waves of the olive wand combed his hair, and straightened the wrinkles on his suit and shirt. However, when it came to fixing his tie, Ettore didn't use magic.

"What about you?" Severus asked quietly, looking down on the obvious bulge that still tented Ettore's black pants.

"Unless you are willing to bend over right now, do not worry about me, Severus," Ettore grinned boyishly. "You have given me plenty already."


	19. Chapter Seventeen: Fault in the Design

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The responses for the previous chapter were so heartwarming! Thank you all!
> 
>  **Mini Italian Dictionary:** mio amore - my love / mostruosità - monstrosities / sì - yes / Cosa mi hai fatto…? - What have you done to me...? / Cazzo Madre di Vergilius! - Fucking Mother of Vergil / mio amigo - my friend / mi dispiace - I'm sorry / polizia - police / mio Drago - my dragon / mio amici - my friends

**Chapter Seventeen: Fault in the Design**

**o.O.o**

Severus had to admit, Ettore did have a knack for style. Potter looked fancy in his navy-blue suit, tight enough that it highlighted the line of his toned body. The lavender shirt brought a youthful touch to the set, while the purple tie with the tiny pink dots carried elegance. Not even the ridiculously old fashioned, round glasses broke the image, as it gave maturity to Potter’s face, and a certain retro style, according to the designer.

They went outside and indeed, just as Ettore promised, the garden had completely transformed. The runway was ready to be walked. The water beneath its winding path was like ink – thick and dark blue. Whether it was the lights or something more special and magical, Severus could not tell, but he had the feeling he did not want to fall into that pool.

The spotlights above their heads were all aimed at the catwalk. Their white lights were blinding even from this distance. It was a little comforting, Severus thought, that he would not see a single person from there. Fairy lights and floating candles escorted the guest between rows and rows of chairs and twinkled in friendly blue, bringing an eerie sensation. The enormous fig tree was lit with little blue lanterns as well. It was beautiful in the dark.

Music blasted seemingly from everywhere, but it was loudest closer to the little tent at the end of the pool. That was where Severus, Potter and Ettore were headed as well, though they lurked in the shadows so that no one would yet see the magical suits.

As their group walked inside the little tent, Severus was surprised to see how many other models had been dressing. It showed how important the suits they were wearing must be that Ettore had personally overseen them, while neglecting the designs that were actually for the show. He left that to his assistants.

It was only five minutes till the beginning and the chaos seemed to have reached its climax. Half dressed women rushed passed them, make-up artists waved after them with their wands. Others were still waiting for their hair to be styled. Potter and Severus seemed the only ones fully ready, yet Ettore did not seem worried in the least.

He flicked his wand here and there when his eyes caught some irregularities, and Severus found his wandwork almost hypnotising. Perhaps it was Ettore’s energy in him, but he reacted to the magic in the wand, it called to him in a way he could not explain. It was all strange – Ettore would cast a spell and before the charm would hit the fabric, Severus would somehow feel where it was meant and what was its purpose. Even though he knew absolutely nothing about designing.

Regardless, there was something wrong with Ettore. Maybe he was handling the stress differently than Severus expected, but it seemed as if Serafini was in pain every time he looked at his own creation. His calmness felt unreal, almost as if it would mean, he had given up, like he did not care anymore. He was polite to everyone, yet the moment he turned away from Harry or Severus the smile disappeared from his face. He wasn’t just business-like – he was straight out emotionless and cold.

Potter enjoyed the chaos and the people though. He was energized. When a glass of champagne was pressed into his hand he grinned and poured it down his throat as if it would be apple juice. He smiled and chatted with the ladies and flirted with the man – Severus would have been outraged, but Serafini assured him, that was the suit’s doing and Potter hadn’t turned into a charming playboy. Potter himself admitted that too, as he shyly pulled Severus aside.

“I feel strange,” he confessed as they were hiding behind a rack of clothes.

“Strange as in…” Severus asked back.

Potter played with a black lacy skirt. “I’m… I think… Snape, I’m horny.” He finished looking Severus dead in the eyes. “I can't explain it, but this turns me on. I usually hate the crowd, the cameras, the fame, but now I feel thrilled. It’s like…”

“You are a completely different person?” Severus helped him out. “Yes, I can relate to that.”

“Is this Ettore? Is this how he generally feels?”

“Must be,” said Severus.

“There is something else…” Potter said letting go of the skirt. He looked past the rack, past even the dressing crowd. His green eyes were searching for the handsome Italian. He must have found Ettore, but he didn’t like what he saw. The excitement was gone from his face. He was all serious now. “It’s like watching someone getting raped.” He looked back at Severus. “I can't put it any other way. We shouldn’t let him do this.”

“You forget, it’s not our decision, Potter.” Severus reminded him and he looked for Ettore as well. Potter was correct though, this did not feel alright, beneath all the excitement Ettore’s magic pulled from them, there was a certain darkness, a painful regret, something Severus despised all his life: shame.

Ettore was ashamed that he had to resort to such tactics. That he had to use magic to convince people that he was a good designer. That he had to reveal something elemental, something utterly personal in order to prove he is better than his stolen ideas.

“I don’t like this any better than you do, but there is nothing we can do,” Severus told Potter. “You heard the man, if he doesn’t do this, his career is over.”

Looking helpless, Potter groaned. “I hate this. I don’t want to do this. If these were be regular suits, I would be okay with it, hell, I would even maybe enjoy it, just a bit. But not like this. I can feel it somewhere deep down beneath all this bubbly excitement how angry this makes him, how defenceless he will become.”

“You can't back out,” growled Severus and grabbed Potter by the arm to show he was serious. “I know you, Potter, you want to do the best for him, but you _cannot_ decide about his career. You can try and convince him to change his mind, but you cannot ruin this for him.”

Thoughtful, Potter stared at the ground for a few seconds, Severus could all but see the idiotic Gryffindor plans form behind the ancient round glasses.

Suddenly, green eyes snapped at him. “I need to find Draco,” said Potter then the next moment he was gone, the clothes on the rack waving by his haste departure.

Severus crept out from their hiding place as well, a girl, couldn’t be more than eighteen, raised an eyebrow, obviously weirded out by a man hiding in female garments. Severus just gave her a stern look and she hustled away. Her place was taken almost immediately.

Deep sky blue blur obscured his vision, then strong arms dragged him back behind the clothe rack. He sighed, eyes rolling but the moment he saw Ettore’s expression he frowned.

“What’s wrong?” He asked urgingly.

“Everything,” cried the Italian. “We’re about to start and I have a feeling I am making the biggest mistake of my life – but no matter what, every action feels like a disaster.”

“Ettore, you need to calm down,” Severus tried, but in vain.

Serafini just shook his head, his pained expression not changing as he continued, “These designs are not yet ready, _mio amore_! You noticed the theme? It is blue – the colour of wealth and royalty, the calmest colour that is supposed to inspire creativity, represent integrity, knowledge, and power! These are all traits I thought once I possessed but I look around now and I see desperation instead of creativity, I see fear, I see betrayal! Severus this is not me! It cannot! I am more than these imperfections. I am the loyal lover you want in your bed, my words the honest truth and nothing else, my body the rough power that dominates and rules, but these… _these_ _monstrosities_ are lies, they are weak and dishonest!” His face contorted as he watched the models not far. He scowled in disgust as he noticed the clothes on the rack were his too. He exhaled and with air the frustration seemed to go from his system as well. “I cannot do this. Help me, _mio_ Severus, I beg you.”

He looked hurt. Pained like a lost little boy, who could not find the way home. Severus didn’t know what to do, what to say, how to make this all go away and lead the boy back where he belonged, where he was protected.

“And the worst is,” Ettore said quietly, “I cannot step back. Not now. The show must go on, as they say. If I step back, I show how weak I am. With you and Harry I could show strength but it would be a lie, and even if they would not notice, I would _know_. There is nothing to be done, I know it.” He added looking aside.

“You can stop any time, Ettore,” said Severus. “You go out there, and tell them. We have proof that Bernardo stole your ideas. They would understand.”

Ettore moved closer to the tent’s wall and pulled two adjoining pieces apart so he could look outside at the crowd waiting patiently for him.

“You do not understand these people, Severus,” He said, eyes scanning the faceless men and women. “They came here to see a show, and if there is no show, my career is dead. But if I go on, it will be me, my soul, everything I stand for that will die, suffocate in the black water out there. Designing clothes has been my life, not just something that gave me a living. It was my reason, my happiness. And now… It is all over. I fail myself, or I fail them. Which is better, you tell me, _mio_ Severus!”

Severus moved closer, and lay a hand on a strong arm. “Who knows… you are right, I know nothing of these people.” Severus told him and Ettore looked at him over his shoulder. “But I know one thing, Ettore. Once you fail yourself, fail everything you believe in – that kind of act can never be undone. It will be there forever, tainting you like a mark you cannot wash off. But whatever happens tonight, however you decide, you cannot fail your friends. We will be there for you.”

Sighing deeply, Ettore turned back towards the crowd. “You are right. I can finish the collection, make it bigger, better. Stronger. But if I do this now, I will become…” He tensed suddenly, and a whisper slipped past his lips. “ _Bernardo_.”

“You would never sink that low,” assured him Severus.

“No, Severus, Bernardo! He is here!” Cried Ettore furiously. “How dare he!”

Ettore tore at the tent’s wall, but Severus pulled him back before he would be unleashed on the unsuspecting people.

“What are you talking about?”

“First row,” Ettore growled and took Severus a second to understand the English words beneath the heavy Italian accent. Holding Ettore’s wrist in a tight grip so he couldn’t worm himself out, he looked out too, scanning the first row. He had never seen the man, but it was easy to spot him. While every other guest was excitedly chatting, turning on their chairs, clicking at their cameras, Bernardo Governale was the embodiment of serenity. He sat there in an impeccable suit, his legs crossed at his knee. He was watching avidly the spot where Severus and Harry ought to show within only moments, from where every model is supposed to walk out wearing half ready designs. He was already smirking at his victory.

“Let me go,” ordered Ettore in a voice so furious it was all but a hiss. Severus looked at him just to see his eyes were blue fire ready to burn the muggle alive.

“You will rip him apart if I let you go out there now,” stated Severus.

“Ah, _sì_ ,” growled Ettore wildly not taking his eyes off from the man. However suddenly his expression changed as if someone had slapped him. Ocean blue eyes a minute ago on fire now watched a scene cold and dead like ash. “ _Mio Draco_ …” He whispered heartbroken all of a sudden.

Severus looked out too, his eyes searching the calm man he had seen a minute ago. He was not alone anymore. Draco was with him, and they were laughing at something. Draco pointed at the tent, then sneered and Bernardo laughed again.

The anger, the panic, the frustration had all left Ettore. He stood there now empty.

“C _osa mi hai fatto…_? He asked aloud.

**o.O.o**

Severus’ own words echoed in his mind as he followed the fuming Ettore towards the entrance of the tent, unable to stop him. ‘ _You cannot fail your friends. We will be there for you._ ’ Did he make a false promise just now? How can Draco be so stupid? Was this his plan all along? For Bernardo to see the show as well? So he can witness that Ettore Serafini is not so easy to conquer? Did he not realize how important it was for Ettore that only the select few would see his core designs?

Severus did not recommend for anyone to be on the other side of Ettore’s fury. He was not quite sure himself why he was following the designer: to protect him from Governale or to prevent anything from happening to his own godson. Ettore was unstoppable as he marched past his collection. Racks full of clothes were knocked over, he even pushed aside a girl with ebony skin wearing a blue dress, who landed in Severus’ arm. Severus apologized to her but she still looked frightened.

“Go to the back,” he told her and she must have understood him because she ran, dragging the others with her.

Severus turned around expecting Ettore to be gone already, and he was almost right. The man was half-way out already. He managed to grab Serafini’s wrist in the last minute and he tugged on it hard, hauling him right back into the tent before he could step on the runway.

Ettore stared at him wide eyed and livid. The hatred on his face was palpable so Severus hold on to him stronger. “You cannot do this, Ettore, you _need_ to calm down!”

“Calm down?” Ettore cried his accent heavier than ever. “That man ruined me, and you expect me to just let him sit and gloat?”

“I expect you to set aside your anger, Ettore!” said Severus in a raised voice. “You are no good like this.”

For a second, Ettore looked willing to think over all this rationally, but then someone decided to speak up outside. The fury was back on with full force once they both recognized the voice.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen,” Draco said in a mild tone, his voice magically amplified.

“ _Cazzo Madre di Vergilius_! What is he doing?” Ettore shouted trying to see Draco on the runway. “He cannot expect me to go through with this with Bernardo out there!”

“I don’t know what he is doing. But if you give me a second, I will go and _calmly_ find out.”

Hands fisted in Severus’ suit and Ettore hissed darkly, “You are not going anywhere near those people wearing that suit.”

“Then give me something to wear,” reacted Severus coolly. This was a perfect way to distract Ettore for a short time, who finally gave up with revenge and raked through a bunch of hanged clothes. He picked out a piece hurriedly and tossed it at Severus.

Severus caught the pair of grey dress pants and started to change. He barely unbuttoned the suit, when Ettore was about to bail on him.

“Look at me,” he said in a low voice. Only when Ettore stopped and looked back did he continue. “If you go out there now, he will win. If he sees you like this, if _your guests_ see you like this, you lost everything. Have faith in Draco, or if not him, have faith in me, that I can stop him.”

Avid eyes watched him as he took off the jacket and then unbuckled his belt. He pulled it out and handed it to Ettore who did not move, but did not even say anything.

Severus pushed off the pants too and it felt as if a cord was severed between him and Ettore. Eyes narrowed the Italian watched Severus as the change happened. Severus felt strangely empty without Ettore’s confident magic coursing through him. He put on the charcoal grey pants finally, but as he didn’t receive any shoes, he was left barefoot.

“You think I will let you go out there once I’m not under your magic’s influence?” Asked Severus coldly.

“Well, will you?” Ettore asked back. “Surely you do not approve of-“

“What, idiocy?” Offered Severus helpfully. “Sure go out, and beat up Bernardo, that’s what you want isn’t it? Who am I to stop you? And why should I? Friendship clearly means nothing to you, you fool. Go then.” Severus crossed his arms and watched the handsome face, but Ettore didn’t move. Draco’s voice was still coming from the speakers. “What are you waiting for?”

They stared at each other for minutes perhaps, then Ettore let out a strangled sigh. “No, you were right, _mio amigo_. _Mi dispiace_ , this was unworthy of me. But he angers me! How could he do this? Why was it not enough that he stole my creations?”

“I do not know what is going on out there, but I’m sure it has to do with Potter and Draco.” Severus shook his head. “I just hope they thought this through.”

“I’ll go out there, and tell them everything,” said Ettore. “You will come with me, will you not? We tell them what kind of a man Bernardo is.” Severus nodded and they headed towards the entrance.

Just when they reached the catwalk and stepped on transparent plastic with the ink blue water beneath them like an abyss, Draco said, “Allow me to introduce you,” he shouted, his voice coming from everywhere, “one of the greatest designers in Italy, and perhaps Europe as well.” He took a deep breath and must have noticed them coming, because he looked straight at them and smirked. Ettore smiled back at him, his emotions finally under control. “Bernardo Governale,” said Draco evenly, and people clapped loudly in the audience.

**o.O.o**

Harry watched from the side as Ettore Serafini, usually so strong and proud, staggered against the tent’s metal frame now shattered and wounded. One hand was clutching towards Snape, the other gripping into his own shirt, perhaps to ease the pain inside his chest.

“Ettore!” Harry cried and set off in hurried steps towards the other two.

Ettore stared in front of him blindly and deaf to Snape’s calming words.

Harry finally reached them and pulled Serafini to himself. He hugged the man first then held him in arm’s length. “Listen, Ettore, this is not what it looks like!” He told the Italian, but it was like talking to a wall. “Ettore, listen to him! Listen to what he is saying. Look at what he is doing!”

“How can you ask something like that from the man?” Snape groaned. “I will murder Draco myself. How could he do this?”

“Both of you, listen to me!” Snapped Harry, shaking Ettore so he would snap out of it. It worked; Ettore’s beautiful eyes finally focused on Harry’s face. He smiled encouragingly at Ettore. “Hear him, Ettore, look at the screen. You wanted your dragon to breath fire, so watch him do it.”

Wide eyed still, Ettore stared at Harry. “Tell me this is not true!” He begged. “Tell me Draco has not sided with him – with the man who ruined me!”

“He didn’t just ruin you, Ettore,” Harry told him. “He and his father did something way worse. Something so despicable, he does not deserve any of your mercy.” He took Ettore’s hand in his and held it for a moment. “Listen to Draco. This is all part of his plan to ruin Bernardo forever.”

Nodding uncertainly, Ettore straightened himself. All three of them stood at the entrance and watched the scene out there. Draco was still speaking about Governale’s latest success. Above him on a large screen, that by now was supposed to show Severus and Harry stride in their suits, a film was playing that must have been recorded at Bernardo’s show last night, where he had presented Ettore’s stolen ideas. Given Ettore’s grim features as he too watched the film, Harry was certain he was correct.

Bernardo stood there next to Draco. His face was triumphant and his smile bright. He was proud as he too watched the screen, knowing that this night would be the final blow to ruin Ettore Serafini. Harry hadn’t felt this intense hatred for anyone in ages.

He smiled satisfied as he saw the movie stop abruptly. Then Malfoy spoke up, his voice still louder thanks to magic.

“So, Mr. Governale, I was wandering, where do you get your inspiration?” Draco smiled at the man. Harry was surprised Bernardo didn’t sense the trap yet. Or maybe as a teenager, Harry had faced that malice in Draco’s grey eyes just too often and he still remembered.

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy, from many places,” he answered elusively. “You know how it is with creating. You can be inspired by anything from the colours of leaves to the eyes of your lovers.”

The audience laughed, and so did Malfoy. “Indeed, Ettore Serafini is famous for finding inspiration in his lovers. We actually have some of his works here as well.” Malfoy motioned for someone off the runway, probably to whoever controlled the computer and hence the screen. Now pictures appeared. Inspiration and the muse.

Harry instantly recognized Stephen, even without looking at the design that was based on him. The suit he wore on that first charity event that had lead him here, was on the screen, too. The man’s light grey hair and green eyes, and some refined finesse in his face told Harry who it was without a doubt.

“Stephen,” Draco named the creation and suddenly there was clamour in the audience. Someone stood up and Harry heard Ettore’s gasp.

“Is that…?” The Italian whispered and his unsaid question was shortly answered.

“Would you come up here, Stephen?” Malfoy asked brightly. The gentleman obeyed and walked past the rows and stepped carefully onto the catwalk. He was older than Ettore, looked around fifty, but collected and elegant as he stood next to Draco. He did not seem at all intimidated by the crowd, what now clapped in amazement.

The screen changed and to Harry memories came back of his dinner date with Snape. His red shirt was presented now and Draco announced, “Antonio.”

A man stood up again, just as his picture appeared on screen as well. He looked completely different from Stephen. He was shorter, but muscular, and a lot younger than him too. On the picture, he was tied out, bloody but satisfied, wearing nothing but a lazy smirk. His groin was covered, but people could still see the bleeding scars on his front made by the whip.

“What is he doing?!” Ettore cried. “Antonio works at _polizia_! Draco should not be showing this picture!”

However, Antonio did not seem like he minded the portrait up above him. He walked with confidence onto the catwalk. He had the same lazy smile on his lips as he stood next to Bernardo. People catcalled from the audience, but he just laughed.

“So that’s your famous Antonio,” said Snape.

“Was mine,” corrected Ettore. “Now he is father of two, captain of _polizia_. Why would he agree to this?”

“For the same reason, Draco agreed to _this_.” Harry smiled.

Ettore was about to ask what he meant, when the screen changed again. It was Malfoy on the photo now, his silvery blond hair a mess, teeth biting his bleeding lips, his grey eyes widened with satisfaction. The picture didn’t show much of his body, which was undoubtedly naked when the photo was taken. It focused mostly on his pleasure-filled expression.

“I made this on our first night,” confessed Ettore. There was warmth in his tone as he said it, perhaps because he understood, Draco did not betray him.

The design appeared next to the photo. “This one’s only a sketch yet,” Draco announced apologetic. “Though I must say, I cannot wait to wear it.”

The suit was light silver, the shirt a pale yellow. But the vest, the vest was extraordinary. Silver silk, the same as the rest of the suit, but embroidered with yellow and red, the colours of Draco’s blooded lips and his messy hair. It was so obvious, Harry was surprised more creators didn’t use this technique for inspiration.

“Ettore did tell me about this design though,” Draco told the audience. “He described it to me vividly, and believe me, he is pretty good with words – I all but saw the design.” He grinned suggestively and faceless women and men laughed again. “Imagine my surprise, when I, just today, did see this design. And so did you, just now actually.”

Bernardo suddenly looked tense. His eyes were searching the runway for exits, but he could not go anywhere. He would either have to walk past Draco, Stephen and Antonio to go towards the direction where he came from, or he could go towards the tent, where Ettore, Severus and Harry waited. He was trapped and he seemed to realize that as well.

Once again, the screen changed and it was showing the film again. Bernardo’s models strode on the catwalk, one of them wearing the suit inspired by Draco. “Isn’t that interesting…” was all Draco said. Then he conjured a book, a large, black notebook and Ettore started laughing.

“ _Mio Drago_ ,” he smiled. “I see what you are doing.”

“This is Ettore Serafini’s art book. Each and every one of his designs are in here, you see.” Draco explained and as he talked more and more sketches popped up on the screen. “Dated and in neat order.” All the sketches that were on the screen were now paired with one of Ettore’s own design that were supposed to show up tonight, then another one, slightly different: a cut-out from the film about Governale’s show last night. People gasped loudly.

Bernardo tried to move, but Antonio grasped his arm. The police captain told him something and the previous smugness from Bernardo’s face disappeared – he looked frightened.

More pictures came. Scanned images from the black notebook with pencil drawings over them – the tweaked versions of Ettore’s designs.

Outraged cries came from the audience now. Everyone was demanding Ettore, who solemnly stepped out to the light at last.

“ _Mio amici_ ,” he started. He did not need to enhance the level of his voice. There was dead silence in the audience now. “It is true what you hear. This man has betrayed me and the trade we all work for. He stole my designs and last night presented them as his. We acquired some evidence that shows,” he pointed at the screen above him, “how he changed my ideas, how he line by line took out everything that was Serafini, and replaced it with lies.” He turned to Bernardo and watched him for seconds. “I will deal with you later,” he told the man coldly, then turned back to his guests.

“I owe you all an apology. I called you here tonight to present you with something special, something unique. I was supposed to reveal a collection, hastily combined by my stolen ideas and unrevealed designs. However, it would have been a lie, built upon Bernardo’s deceitfulness, and you gained enough of that already. If you forgive me for tonight, I will promise to never let something like this stir me off the path I have walked since I was seventeen. I will promise to stay true to you, our trade, and most importantly, to myself.”

He stood there on the middle of the runway, all spotlights pointed at him. He must have been blinded by them, not seeing anyone who watched him from the audience, yet he kept looking at those faces all clad in darkness. He was worried and frightened all at once, in that minute of dreadful anticipation as he waited, like a suspect in court for his judgement.

And his judgement came in a form of a storm of hands clapping, supporting him, telling him loud as screams that they believed in him and he was forgiven. Ettore visibly exhaled a long sigh that he had kept inside probably all evening. His boyish smile was back on his face as he turned around. Laughing he looked at Snape and Harry, then he turned towards Draco. But Malfoy didn’t smile. He looked morose as he shook his head slowly.

“There is more to Bernardo Governale’s crimes than corporate espionage.” He stated and looked at the Italian man.

Governale stared at Ettore with pure hatred on his face. “You think I care about this?” He cried in disgust. “You think these stupid little clothes matter to me at all?”

The guests collectively gasped and the smile froze off Ettore’s face. “Insult me as you like, Bernardo, but I will not let you belittle the passion these people have for their trade.”

“You want passion, Ettore?” Bernardo hissed. “All these years I wanted nothing more than to ruin you! I despise you! You are nothing more than a little whore, who plays dress up with _papá’_ s money!”

People in the audience became more affronted with that statement than Ettore himself. He just smirked tauntingly. “What anger’s you more, _mio_ Bernardo? That I enjoy what I do, or that I make more money with it than you? Is that why you despise me so much? Why have you not just stepped away? I would have let you take the company, you know? I have no place in the car industry.” Calmly, he walked closer to Governale and said in a soft tone. “Prove me that you are better than this and we can put this all behind. Turn your hatred into passion for business, you are brilliant in it after all and I will let you take over the whole company.”

He put his hands onto Bernardo’s shoulder, whose expression did not change still. He was angry and cornered, and Harry didn’t like where this was going at all.

“We were brothers once, Bernardo.” Ettore said with a kind smile. “We played together, picked up girls together, raced cars, drank, had fun. What happened? Tell me.”

The screen changed once again. “This happened,” said Draco, and laying a hand on Ettore’s shoulder he gently pulled him away from Bernardo.

On the screen, enlarged so that everyone could see, newspaper clippings were displayed, all about the same incident: the fire that had killed Alfieri and twenty-two others in that burning car factory.

“What does this have to do with everything?” Asked Ettore. His eyes snapped from Draco to Bernardo, then to Antonio, who pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

“It wasn’t an accident, Ettore,” Draco said, his voice now quiet, yet people still could hear him in the first few rows. Gasping, they turned to the others and the unsaid accusation spread among the audience. “Only magical fire could have killed your father, Ettore. Antonio looked up the old file and now that they knew what they have to look for, they found traces of magical residue. Someone had cast a Fiendfyre in there to kill your father. And we know it was Sergio Governale.”

“He was a muggle,” Ettore said sternly. “He could not have done something like that. And anyway, Sergio and my father were best of friends, he had no reason! Why would you say something like this, Draco?”

“Whoever acquired your stolen sketches, had found something a lot more important,” said Draco. “They probably did not even realize, what they took, but once I looked through the papers it was clear. The Governale family has a long history of paying for wizards and witches for their magical services. And thankfully, they keep a record of what they paid to whom. On the day of the accident, they hired a known dark wizard. He was caught a couple years ago, he is kept in prison now. When questioned this afternoon by the police captain, he admitted that he was hired to produce a Fiendfyre and let it rage until the whole building was reduced to ashes. Sergio payed him personally.”

“That cannot be true,” Ettore shook his head, then looked at Bernardo.

“Outrageous accusation, Ettore!” Bernardo cried. “Do not believe a word they are saying.”

Uncertain, Ettore looked between Draco and Bernardo. He was simply unable to believe that the family he had thought of as his own would do such a thing.

“Play it,” said Draco with a flat voice and the speakers came alive once again blasting Bernardo’s voice this time.

“I did it father, finally. What you started decades ago, I finally finished. Are you proud of me, father? Surely you are. Ettore Serafini is finished.” And the record went on and on, Bernardo’s boasting words sounding throughout the garden. The balmy spring air seemed to have frozen as everyone listened to Governale’s speech to his dead father’s portrait.

Knowing it was over, Antonio grabbed Bernardo’s hand and put him in handcuffs. The man’s face was strangely triumphant as if he would be relieved that a secret this big was finally revealed and off his chest. His expression changed rapidly when Ettore rounded on him, pointing his olive wand straight at his face.

“You were family!” He shouted, voice broken. “I loved you like a brother! I looked at Sergio as a second father and now you tell me he is the reason why I lost my blood? That he watched my father burn? That he smiled at his death? You tell me that my sorrow has caused you pleasure all these years?”

The blue fire was back in his eyes and Harry wanted to go out there to make sure Ettore wouldn’t do anything stupid, but Severus held him back.

“You need to stay,” Snape said and pointed at the suit Harry was still wearing. Nodding, Harry watched him join Ettore’s side on the catwalk.

Draco put a hand calmly on Ettore’s arm to make him lower his wand. “Don’t do it Ettore. You cannot attack an unarmed muggle. This leach isn’t worth it.”

“He betrayed my family!” Ettore yelled hoarsely.

“I know,” said Draco keeping his voice even. “And he won't do it ever again. The whole world will know what he and his father are. Hurting him will achieve nothing.”

“Oh it will,” said Ettore darkly. “It will bring me immense pleasure.” With that he dropped his wand, pulled back his arm and hit Bernardo on the jaw as hard as he could. The hit sent Bernardo staggering against Antonio. Blood was streaming from his torn lower lip.

Ettore turned his back, nursing his hand, and swearing in Italian because of the pain. Draco and Antonio shared a look of satisfaction and Bernardo took the occasion to knock the police captain against Malfoy, while ramming into Ettore, knocking him off the runway and into the ink black water. As Ettore fell, he seemed to hit his head against the stone edge of the pool.

Governale set off running towards the end of the stage, but his escape attempt was futile. Snape only flicked his wand and ropes tied around Bernardo’s leg and he fall face forward, sliding on the plastic path almost to the very end, where among police officers, a wildly snarling Orsetto waited for him.

Harry quickly undressed, kicking off his shoes and pants too, and jumped into the water as well to make sure Ettore was alright. He swam to Ettore with quick strokes.

However, even before Harry could reach him, Ettore had forgone Harry’s worried questions when he said, “I am alright, Harry,” in a reassuring tone once he emerged from the water. But Harry noticed that his head was bleeding from a smaller cut.

They watched in the water as police officers collected Bernardo off the ground and shoved him unceremoniously into the back of a police car that had waited on the lawn.

“This is not how I expected this evening to go,” confessed Ettore, ruffling his hair to get the water out of it. Harry summoned Ettore’s olive wand and handed it to him.

“Oh you mean, you didn’t want to take a swim in the middle of the show?” Harry smiled at him. He leaned closer to take a look at the small cut, but it wasn’t bleeding heavily anymore. Still, he cast a quick charm, and the skin healed. Harry took Ettore’s face in his hand and turned it towards the light to make sure, but the scar was gone as if it hadn’t even been there.

Ettore laughed and it seemed for a minute his old self was finally back. “No, swimming was planned for _after_ the show. And so was the chilled Champagne and frozen strawberries.” His blue eyes glinted mischievously as he added. “And besides, people swim in my pool _naked_.”

Harry looked down on himself. He was only wearing blue shorts. “I’m almost there,” he shrugged, grinning.


	20. Chapter Eighteen: What Goes Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is over but I still have one last gift for all of you! Thank you all for sticking with me during this year too, and I hope you will enjoy this final chapter.
> 
> Mini Italian-English Dictionary: polizia - police / mio amici - my friends / mio diletto - my Darling / passione - passion / zia - aunt / mio - my / mio bello - my beauty

**Chapter Eighteen: What Goes Around**

**o.O.o**

They waited next to the pool for the police to send home everyone. Antonio came by to tell Ettore how sorry he was and to let him know that Bernardo was already in secure holding. They made sure to lock him up both in the muggle and the magical way.

By the time the police and the guests cleared as well and it was only the four of them once again, midnight was approaching. Yet it seemed none of them was the least bit tired. They were sitting outside. Ettore, Severus and Draco were drinking the Champagne at the table, while Potter was lazily petting Orsetto on the ground. The cats were nowhere to be seen, though Rajah had only recently left – he was keeping company to Ettore as if sensing that something was not alright.

"We should head home early tomorrow," Potter suggested not looking away from the fluffy fur ball.

"You know that thing is not coming with us, right?" Draco warned him, eyeing the animal and Potter suspiciously.

"Hagrid would be overjoyed to have a little beast like that," Severus noted. "But I hardly doubt Ettore and the cats would be willing to part with their sheep."

"Absolutely no," Ettore smiled. "The dog stays. And you can too. I will have some business with _polizia_ , but you are more than welcome to stay the whole day, _mio amici_."

Severus shook his head. "No, we will head home. I have some paperwork to do. And I am sure these two are behind with their gradings as well."

"Are you coming to England anytime soon?" Harry asked Ettore, who just shrugged.

"I do not know. I have a whole new collection to create and a new show to plan." Gloomily, he added, "I do not think I will have time to visit."

"Can I drop by?" Draco asked. "I'll just bring the tests with me." He said to Severus.

"Absolutely," Cried Ettore smiling. "You must know I would be happy to have you here." He told Draco then he looked at Severus and Harry as well. "The same applies for both of you. You may come any day at any hour."

Slowly, Severus nodded, "And Hogwarts will always welcome you, too."

They talked through the rest of the night as well, Ettore recalling stories of his father and Sergio. If they didn't know what had happened, it would be easy to believe that those two men had once been best of friends. There was a part of Ettore that still hadn't accepted that his surrogate father had betrayed the Serafini family.

The sun was coming up over the hill by the time they got tired of chatting. Severus ordered two hours of rest, then they would leave back to Scotland. He was exhausted himself and looking at Draco and Potter, he knew those two weren't in any better shape either.

Draco went ahead, but Ettore lingered behind for a minute. "Harry, Severus, if I may have a word with you?"

They stood silently under the great fig tree, the fairy lights on it now pale and lifeless as the sun shone brighter and brighter. It was going to be a beautiful day here in Italy and Severus only hoped the clouds would stay away from Hogwarts as well. Returning to work after a weekend like this seemed bleak enough, rain would just make everything even more depressing.

"So what is going to happen to you two?" Ettore asked unabashed.

"What do you mean?" Asked back Potter. "Nothing."

"Nothing, you say?" Ettore echoed quietly, however his gaze was stern when he looked at them. "Look at all what you have achieved. Will you just throw that away?"

"It's not that simple." Potter said.

"It is always that simple." Ettore insisted.

"There is too much at stake." Severus said.

Sighing Ettore turned away then, changing his mind, stepped closer to them instead. "You are fools," he hissed quietly. "And for what? The curse? The school's reputation? Give me one good reason, why you two won't be together."

"You listed two right there," Severus replied.

Ettore stared at him, blue eyes flashing in the morning light. "You are an idiot."

"Excuse me?" Frowned Severus.

Potter was grinning, but Serafini turned to him the next moment and Potter's good mood was gone. "And why do you smile? You are an even bigger idiot, _mio diletto_. Him I would understand; he is Headmaster after all. He is worried about his school. Stupid reasons in my opinion, but acceptable. But you, you are blind, foolish _and_ a coward. You had _passione_ when we met, you had fire. No matter if it was charity event or teaching, you enjoyed your life. Then as months went by, you grew dour. Because of him. Because you thought he had slept with me. The idea of losing him to me extinguished the fire in your soul. And what pains me the most is that you stepped away. That you just let it happen. That you did not fight for what you want."

His gaze was hard on Potter, who didn't look away, yet there was nothing he would say either. He didn't protest against the accusations; he didn't even seem like he disagreed with anything Ettore had said.

"You talk about a curse, that you want to break, yet you do nothing against it. Because this is comfortable for you."

Finally, Potter spoke up. "How can you say that? You know I want to be with him."

"Of course you do, Harry. And I want to be with you. Wanting something will not make it happen. You will have to do something about it, too. This curse is the perfect reason for you two. Even though it is nothing more than a stupid reason you get to blame for being a coward."

"That curse exists," said Severus.

"It only exists because you let it," told him Ettore. "It is comfortable for you to say, I cannot do that because of the curse, when in truth, the curse has nothing to do with this. You are just scared, both of you. Because this is just too important and you are scared that you will _fuck. It. Up_."

"That's not true," said Potter. "We told you already, it's not that simple."

" _It_ is simple, _mio_ Harry. It is _you_ who overcomplicate it." Ettore said. "Life is full of what-ifs, nothing is certain. What if the curse will end your relationship? Well, what if it will not? What if no one finds out? What if-" he asked taking a deep breath, "someone comes along and kisses Severus, when you are not looking, too worried about a curse that may or may not be the end of your non-existent relationship? What if it all will be over before it could start, just because you were too scared?"

"No one will come, Ettore," said Severus with a sigh.

"I did," Ettore answered quietly. "I came and I almost managed to break you up just because you _thought_ there was someone else. The idea itself was like a poison to your hearts. You were willing to give up on him, Severus, did you forget that?"

"What?" Potter cried.

"Oh yes, after your argument at _Zia_ Coco's library, he was willing to step back. I told him, if he refuses to act on his heart's wishes, I will make you mine, _mio_ Harry. His deadline was yesterday."

"Oh but he acted on his hearts wishes," Potter assured the Italian.

"I didn't," said Severus quietly. "I promised you one night."

"Hey, it's okay," Potter said with a soft smile. He stepped closer to Severus. "We had a lot on our minds today. And after what happened to Ettore-"

"What happened to me?" Asked Ettore now louder. "My father is dead. Sergio is dead. Bernardo betrayed me when he stole from me. It shocked me what they have done, but I assure you, Draco will make me forget about it all, in just a few minutes. See, once again, you found an excuse."

"Okay, you know what, this really isn't fair, Ettore." Potter said with passion. "We agreed that we can wait." He entwined his fingers with Severus' before he went on. "Curse or no curse, the rules still apply to both of us. The Board would never allow this, and we don't want to get fired. And that's okay." He finished softer now. "I won't go anywhere, and I trust neither will Severus. And besides, the semester is nearly done. During the summer, we will be free to do _anything_." He grinned.

"The Board of Governors, huh." Was all Ettore said thoughtfully, then after a moment he shrugged and went on grinning. "I still stand by what I said. I think you two are just too afraid. However, never shall it be said that Ettore Serafini will not admit that he was wrong. I cannot wait for the day you will prove me wrong. I will of course, require some kind of proof. A photo perhaps, of naked, sweaty bodies in golden candle light covered in semen."

"Keep on dreaming," Severus snorted.

"You too, _mio bello_. Because that is as close as you will get to this body for about two more month." He said as he slapped Harry's ass, then went inside.

**o.O.o**

Their departure two hours later was uneventful and rather haste. Ettore was due to the police station, and Harry wanted to go back to Hogwarts more than anything. So did Snape it seemed, because they barely had time to say goodbye to their host before they were whisked away by a glowing blue tie. They landed just outside of the gates and Malfoy departed right away, heading towards Hogsmead, saying he had some business to do that involved a lot of Dragonfang or some other beer. Snape and Harry though turned towards the school and started their slow ascend on the winding path.

They kept quiet, mostly due to the children they met along the road. Some younger ones were only exploring the great estate, some walked hand in hand giggling, while others were just sitting around, enjoying their weekend and the good weather.

Tiredness soon took over Harry, making him feel like he hadn't slept in ages when in fact, his adventure to Italy only started yesterday. Yet their eventful Saturday had tired him more than the whole semester. Snape looked exhausted as well. The dark shadows under his eyes grew deep overnight.

Yet the silence between them held something else besides fatigue. Maybe it was just the echo of Ettore's words to them, perhaps it held their own fears. However, something was there, making every step hurt.

Everything looked so simple in Italy. Even the waiting looked like child's play, but now as they approached the castle the earlier complications were there again. Not just the curse and the Board, but everything else seemed to step between them. The further they went from Italy, the more complicated their future looked.

They parted at the Great Hall. Snape went to talk to Minerva, while Harry headed towards his quarters in hopes of a soft bed, and perhaps a tumbler of brandy. He wasn't disappointed. As if the elves had known what he needed, he was awaited with a warmed bed and a glass of cognac by the bedside table. Clothed, just as he was, Harry downed the drink, and dropped onto the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

He woke hours later, if possible more tired and even disoriented. His dreams left him restless. Too many changing faces, angry words and numbing helplessness. There was a knock on his door, which made him realize, it must have been what had woken him in the first place.

Groaning, Harry stood up and rubbed his face. By the time he walked out of his bedroom, the knocking turned into loud pounding. He looked outside the window and saw it was already dark. He must have slept through the whole day.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," He mumbled still a bit groggy, when the person on the other side drummed on his door so loud it almost came off of its hinges.

They were knocking still, when he finally reached the door and opened it. Snape's frozen hand fisted in the air.

"You look positively horrible," Laughed Harry as he looked at the tired face. "Have you slept at all?"

"No," Snape answered, lowering his hand. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Harry stood aside and let in his guest. "Did something happen?"

"No."

Snape walked inside and then just stood there in the middle of the room, looking around as if it would be his first time there. He was strangely quiet.

Harry waited patiently for a while, but when Snape still didn't say anything, he finally asked, "Do you want a drink?"

Snape suddenly looked at Harry dead in the eyes. "I want to _fuck_ you, not a bloody drink, thank you."

Harry tried to clear his throat but nothing helped cooling this sudden heat he felt. "What…?"

"You heard me, Potter. This is _unfair_. It's _cruel_. How am I to focus on my work now?" Snapped the Headmaster.

"Just how you always did," said Harry as helpfully as he could, though that previous sentence still didn't let him think as straight as he needed.

"I had to write a letter this afternoon to a concerned parent, Professor Potter. The furthest I got was Dear Mrs. Thumsley."

Harry chuckled softly, but tried to keep it to himself. Snape was clearly agitated. "You're just tired. Go to bed and-"

He couldn't finish the sentence as the next moment he felt himself crushed against a bookshelf, Snape holding him there with two strong hands on his hips. "Tired, am I, Mr. Potter?"

One of the hands moved and grabbed Harry's wrist guiding it downwards. Eyes wide open, Harry let Snape put his hand over Snape's hardened cock, while he whispered, " _This_ is how tired I am, Mr. Potter, how tired I've been _all_ fucking day, so yes, I _am_ going to bed and you are coming with me."

He was pulled then into his own bedroom, Snape guiding Harry through his quarters as if it would be his. Once they reached the bed, just when Harry expected to be thrown on it, Snape stopped.

"I need _you_. I want you. And I promised you a night. Tell me to go away. Tell me we cannot do this, be strong and send me on my way, because Merlin forbid, I am _weak_ and I won't leave unless you tell me to." Snape grabbed Harry's arm and held on to him strongly. "Or let me stay and I will give you a night you will remember. Something that shows you that I have waited and waited for you and I'm willing to wait a century more, if you promise you will be mine."

"I've been yours for a while now, Severus." Harry groaned, getting more and more excited by the hungry look in Severus' eyes.

"If you say yes," said Severus darkly, "I will lick you, eat you up, and put my cock in every hole in your body, do you understand that? You will bare my marks on your body for _days_ to come. You will beg and plead and I will not stop sucking your cock, or fucking that tight little hole of yours."

"Yes, yes, oh god yes," chanted Harry pulling the man closer.

The grin on Snape's lips was definitely wolfish as he slid his hands onto Harry's neck and hold him firmly. Slowly he leaned forward, parted lips drifting ghost-like on Harry's face – not a kiss yet, just soft caress. Harry sighed deeply.

"Severus," he moaned barely audible.

Lips slipped over his. Severus kissed him gently, yet the hands on Harry's neck were still clinging strongly as if he would be holding himself back. Harry exhaled through his nose, barely able to breath from his fervently pounding heart.

"Kneel down, Harry," murmured Severus and Harry could feel the gentle pressure as he was pushed down. He knelt, feeling excited and aroused. Snape's hands slipped from his neck and caressed his face, his cheeks, went into his hair and slid through it, ruffling it up even more. Snape's thumb gently rubbed the muscles on his nape making him feel more relaxed as if that could possibly ease the violent need in Harry.

"I doubt you understand how much I want you." Severus said slowly, caressing Harry still with the back of his hands. "The more I see, the more you let me touch, let me taste – it's like an addiction. It makes me crave more, it's never enough. I can hear your skin calling to me to kiss it, to touch it. What else do you think your body is telling me, Potter?"

Harry caressed the long legs in front of him, hand sliding from slacks covered calf up onto thighs and hips.

"That I want you, too?" Asked Harry though he didn't really mean it as a question. "Every inch of me has been screaming for you for so god damn long, it _hurts_ , Severus." Harry gulped. "I want to feel your hands on me… I want to feel you in me… It makes me hard just thinking about you fucking me…"

"More… Tell me more," said Severus as he let go of Harry. He pulled out his shirt, then, black eyes still stuck on Harry's lips as he spoke, he slowly unhooked his belt, then slid it out of the hooks. He dropped it onto the floor, the silver buckle jingling loudly as it hit the ground.

"I want to feel your hot, sweaty body move over me. I can't wait to feel you slowly pressing inside me, knowing how every inch will make me scream with need."

Severus undid both the buttons on his trousers. His black eyes bore into Harry's soul, who refused to look away. But he did keep talking. "I'm glad we didn't do this in Italy, because tomorrow I will wake up and the first thing I will do is fist a hand around my cock and make myself come again, while I can still smell your scent on my pillow."

"What makes you think I would not be here to do it for you?" Severus asked, lips pulling up. "Or you plan to send me away once you are fully satisfied? You think, after what I have planned for us, I will be able to move?"

Grinning Harry shook his head. "You could still be here… I wouldn't let you touch me until I make you promise you will come back tomorrow night as well."

"Cheat…" Grinned Severus, unzipping himself.

Harry licked his lips, eyes dropping down when he heard the sound. "Do you want me to beg for it?" He said then, nodding towards Severus' still covered hardness.

Severus slipped a hand inside his shorts and Harry could see his fingers fist around the hard member, bony knuckles pressing through the thin material. Snape stroked himself, one firm move on his whole length going from bottom to top, making Harry's mouth wet from the sight.

"I want you to open your mouth but do nothing else until I tell you to."

Obediently, Harry's lips parted even before his brain would give the order. He moaned harshly when Severus finally pulled his member out.

Severus kept stroking himself only inches before Harry's lips. Elegant fingers keeping a tight grip around his long shaft as he moved them up and down, sighing with need himself. He watched Harry, onyx eyes stuck on green, while he gasps softly when he reached the head of his cock.

Harry waited, patiently, knowing he would have his reward soon. He loved this game, the pent-up frustration now only seconds away from being released. Anticipation was making his blood boil as he breathed trying to control himself and not lean forward to taste that delicious, pink flesh.

Severus' left hand moved back on his face and edging a thumb between his teeth, he prayed Harry's mouth further apart. Harry moaned. Severus' cock twitched in response.

Snape moved slowly as he slid his cock into Harry's wet mouth, biting his own lips to keep his control. But Harry couldn't help it, he pressed his tongue against the underside of Snape's hardness.

"Tsk… What did I tell you?" Hissed Severus.

Jaw slacked, the tip of his tongue still moving gently against Severus' arousal, Harry just grinned.

Severus rolled his hips suddenly and his cock slipped deeper in. Harry groaned now wilder, but it was only in surprise. Fingers gripped both sides of his head and Snape thrust again, the soft head of his cock pressing against the roof of his mouth.

"Oh fuck…" Severus keened and Harry closed his mouth and sucked on the hard member harder.

"Eager, are we?" Severus mumbled. "Let's see how well you can handle this…"

He thrust now hard and fast, but still not too deep. Harry let the cock slide in and out of his mouth, tongue swirling around the thick flesh. He tried to tilt his head and take Snape in deeper but the strong hands on his head didn't let him. He looked up, searching for the dark gaze he knew would watch him. And indeed, Snape's eyes were on him, observing him avidly as he fucked Harry's mouth.

Suddenly, Harry remembered _Severus_ , the design Ettore had made and the picture in the calendar. The almost expressionless face, the same as now, yet Harry could tell deep inside Snape's every cell was on fire. It was the control that told him, the firm grip on Harry's head and so he slid his own hands over Snape's. He didn't need to move them, Snape reacted almost immediately. His hold loosened and he cradled Harry's head, who drew him in even further.

"Fucking hell," Severus pressed out, fingers helplessly tugging Harry's unruly mop of hair.

Severus' head fell back, his own lips parted and he panted, moaning, hands now restlessly moving in Harry's ink hair.

Harry tongued the slit, drawing further elicit moans from Severus. He let the tip pop out of his mouth and still grinning he licked up the whole length of the sweet member. His saliva mixed with Snape's precome glistened on the long cock and he fisted his hand around it, wanting to play with Snape for a little while more.

But it seemed Severus had a different idea. He pulled Harry up from the ground and pushed him onto the bed. He crawled on top of him, leaning on the bed with only one hand next to Harry's head. His other hand was on his cock, pressing it down against Harry's arousal, as his hips moved trusting wildly.

Harry pushed up, seeking more friction against his still covered cock. He clutched at Snape's pure white shirt, clawing it open mindlessly, not caring for broken buttons or torn material at all. Biting his lips, Severus pressed their cocks together, moving on top of Harry wildly.

It took Harry just a moment to fully open the white shirt and reveal the delicious skin beneath. He ran his palm over dark hair covered chest and further down, fingertips dancing on defined muscles. He kept sliding his hand down until he reached his destination. He swatted Snape's hand away and slipped his hand back over the velvety flesh pressing it against himself, while thrusting up.

His hand free now, Severus set off to finally undress Harry as well. He tore at his shirt and once it was open, he bent down taking a nipple in his mouth, grinding it softly between his teeth. Harry cried out, hand gripping into Severus' ink black strands and he arched from the bed.

"Kill me or fuck me, I can't do this any longer…" Harry breathed against Severus' temple.

Severus' reaction was only a dark chuckle. "You don't deserve either yet," he answered, pink tongue teasing the little, hard nub. He moved slowly further down on the slim body beneath his, goose bumps signalling his trail like tiny breadcrumbs all over Harry's chest. Soft lips kissed Harry's ribs, tongue tickled his side as Snape descended on him like a hungry wolf. Sharp teeth left red marks on his belly, while clever fingers worked his pants open.

Severus didn't play with him any longer. He reached inside Harry's jeans the moment he had access and they both moaned when he wrapped his finger's around Harry's erect cock, pulling it out almost immediately.

"Good lord…" Harry moaned, but Severus silenced him with a sweet kiss. The next moment those sinful lips were back on his belly, teasing him with arduous licks. The hand around his cock and that wayward mouth got closer and closer until suddenly they were only inches apart.

Harry lifted his head and looked down. Severus was watching Harry's cock, all but studying it as if he had all the time in the world and not a needy young man beneath him. He gave a small taste to the tip and Harry gasped. Another, longer swipe around the head left the professor speechless. Hands tangled in bedsheet besides him, Harry cried out as soft lips traced his full length, then Snape reached his balls.

"Mm… Severus…" Moaned Harry eagerly as raspy tongue licked his balls, before the man opened his mouth and sucked in the soft sacks. Hips bucking Harry tried his best to move to the erratic rhythm of Snape sucking, but its unpredictability was what made it all so good. He keened, desperately needing that mouth somewhere else, where now only strong fingers stroked him. Snape's thumb circled around the head of his cock, spreading the precome that was oozing from Harry already.

"Fuck, Severus…" Harry pleaded and felt the lips around his balls pull up into a tempting smile, while Severus didn't stop licking him for even a moment.

With the fingers rubbing him and the lewd tongue making him silently beg, Harry was almost already too close but then Severus backed off. Confused for only a second Harry opened his eyes to see his king shed his clothes. Snape was fast and within a second he was kneeling over Harry bare as a new-born. Alabaster skin, dark tufts of hair, firm muscles and a long, wet, leaking cock – all so delicious Harry didn't know where to look, what to touch. He reached up but Severus moved away from him before Harry could caress his chest.

Snape grabbed his arm instead and pulled him up so he could take off Harry's shirt as well. He didn't have any patience for the pants thought; they were removed via magic, where he got his wand from, Harry didn't know – didn't even care.

Suddenly the room became bright and it took Harry a moment to realize the wood in the hearth was lit and the light wasn't from his brain overloading as Snape's head was back in Harry's lap, lips around his firm cock, needy, slurping noises louder than the cracking of the fire.

Harry cried out loud, not caring in the least who might hear him as he fell back on the bed. Severus moved up on his cock, sucking so hard Harry thought his soul would depart before he came, but then Snape slowed down abruptly to only tender licks like a kitten's.

Sighing, Harry damned the day when he met the man, damned the moment he accepted the job as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor because this was just too much, something that he simply wasn't able to handle and he knew it was only going to get worse – and with that all the better. His sweat covered skin glistening in the firelight, shadows moving on his muscles as he shifted and keened under the sweet torturous pleasure Snape's mouth made him feel.

"Let me hear your sweet voice begging, Potter…" murmured Snape his voice so deep Harry almost came just hearing it. There was as much want in Snape's endless eyes as in Harry's, yet Severus still felt he had the upper hand. The smug smile on his face told Harry as much.

"No," groaned Harry and he regretted it right away, because he knew, he saw in his head, what Severus would do.

Severus gathered some saliva on the tip of his own thumb and forefinger and started rubbing the head of Harry's erection. "Try again," he offered huskily as his fingers moved in small circles on the soft head.

Harry keened loudly crying. His cock pulsed, all veins bulging, skin more sensitive than ever, yet he wouldn't open his mouth. Snape licked the slit, his tongue pressing in between and Harry whimpered needy. "No…" he breathed between harsh moans and Severus exhaled over his cock. He didn't stop though. Eyes darker than ever he played with Harry focusing only at the swollen head of his prick until Harry wasn't more than a puddle of sweaty desire wrapped up in human flesh.

"You know I will only move on if you say what I want to hear," Severus whispered into his ear. The long black locks tickled his oversensitive skin and sobbed, whimpering. "Beg me to make you come, and I might bring mercy for you. I'll take you in my mouth and you can fuck me raw and come down my throat as long as you like."

"Severus! F-fuck," shouted Harry his own voice as loud, as quiet Snape's was in his ear. How he still heard the man over his furiously drumming heart he wasn't sure, but Harry had a suspicion that part of this might be happening in his head – it was simply too good.

"Still no?" Chuckled Snape darkly. "Well alright." Keeping Harry still on the edge with his softly rubbing thumb and forefinger, he pressed another one to Harry's entrance also wet. He just kept it there for now so Potter would feel the pressure but nothing more.

"Is this what you want? Or you hope that I won't find your prostate? I have an excellent memory, Mr. Potter, when it comes to things like this, may I warn you. So, you better disregard your hopes, and start begging for your king."

"Mmm…" Harry hummed his lips closed tightly.

"Potter, open your eyes," came the next order and this time Harry couldn't resist. "I will make you beg, no matter how hard you try, but I must confess your strength is impressive." For a moment, Harry truly believed he had won, then Severus smiled evilly. "Now turn around."

Once again, Harry knew what would happen and the eager anticipation was back in the pit of his belly. He turned and was about to lie back down, when Severus stopped him.

"No, no, no," he said kindly, chiding.

Harry took deep breathes to calm himself once the ongoing teasing on his cock had stopped but he had barely any time to compose himself. A palm was sliding on his back, fingertips tracing his vertebra, slaloming between protruding bones until it reached his tailbone.

Snape didn't touch him anywhere else which might be why Harry shook so vehemently once lips kissed one of his buttocks.

"Am I hurting you?" Laughed Snape mockingly as he caressed Harry's backside with his palms. He spread the checks and leaned there. "Let me know if you want me to stop…"

"Oh god no," Harry moaned and he could feel another smile against his skin. "But you could fuck me with your tongue."

"Hm," Severus hesitated but his tongue swept over Harry's hole once. The young man almost fall forward onto the bed. "Why should I do what you want, if you do not obey me?"

"This was just a suggestion," Harry corrected him.

"A suggestion, you say," said Severus seriously. "Then you don't mind me just…" he didn't finish the sentence but he moved away, bending back.

"Severus!" Potter cried. "Put your tongue in my arse or so help me go- AH MY… _fucking_ god… oh god Severus…"

Severus' tongue half way inside, wiggling wildly, put Potter's demands at rest. Clutching the sheets, sweat dripping on his forehead, Harry swore loudly before he pushed back trying to get that squirmy muscle deeper inside him. Severus chuckled and moved back. He licked the wrinkled skin over and over, the tip of his tongue edging inside bit by bit, then thrusting forth once – twice – a third time, stabbing at Potter's hole.

"Shiiit…" Harry groaned desperate when the thumb and forefinger went back around on the head of his needy prick which seemed to be continuously oozing precome now.

It was suddenly all too much. The tongue lapping at his hole, the fingers circling that soft flesh – his arms and legs weren't enough to hold him up. He fell forwards onto his elbows, pressing his head against the sheets, tearing at it with teeth and nails as if that would help him with the torturous pleasure.

Silently, he begged against the bed but the blanket muffled his voice and Severus did not hear him. Or perhaps he did because the next moment Harry felt a finger at his entrance next to the tongue. He cried out when it pressed through the tight ring of muscles, smoothly as if it would be already covered in lube.

"Say it, Harry," Severus ordered.

This time Harry obeyed. "Please," he begged voice broken with lust. "God Severus please just fuck me… I want you in me _please_ …"

"Hearing you say that… you don't know what it does to me, Harry… I want to feel you around myself more than anything. But I promised you a night you won't forget… So not just yet… bear with me for a little longer…"

"I ca-ah-an't, Severus…" said Harry ardently. "I'm gonna… ahh… I'm gonna come."

"Well yes, just as planned." Stated Severus then suddenly his mouth became busy with something other than talking.

He added a second finger and continued to twist his tongue around the rim of Harry's ass. The young man was loudly begging now and Severus knew exactly how he could push him over that fine line. He bent his fingers once deep inside Potter and searched until he found the little nub he was looking for. Potter screamed, arching his back, pushing back against Severus' fingers wildly. He came hard as Severus milked the last drop of come from him, not even flinching from the third finger that was pressed inside him.

Minutes went by while Severus slowly moved his lubed fingers in and out of Potter's ass, while placing small, tender kisses on his back. Once he felt that the younger man's breathing wasn't as hectic anymore, he let him go.

Potter crashed onto the bed like a doll, but then turned around and reached out to tug Severus with him as well. He rolled his hips once or twice and within moments it felt like he got his full strength back. His cock soft still, but the rest of his body eager and wanting.

"Do it," he whispered kissing a line up on Severus' neck. "Do it now," he urged him.

"I want you to-" Severus started but Harry cut in.

"Now!" He moaned thrashing on the bed, hooking his legs around Severus' waist. "I'll be hard in a minute, you'll see."

Harry nibbled along Severus' jawline, then moved up to his ear. "Put that long hard cock in my arse, Severus, I know you want to. You want it more than anything."

"I do," Severus admitted breathlessly, eyes fluttering down.

"Do it," whispered the little devil into this ear. "Fuck me, my dear Prince."

A hand gripped Harry's bare thigh and Snape hissed. He nuzzled Harry's temple and breathed softly into his black locks. Harry's hand caressed Severus' back, slid slowly down, fingernails tracing straight lines among the myriad of smaller scars.

Then Potter grabbed into Severus' ass, fingers kneading the taut muscle and Severus thrust forward, pressing hard cock against the lower half of Harry's thigh. He rolled his hips working himself slowly closer to Harry's entrance.

Harry let out a harsh moan when he felt the blunt, wet tip of Snape's erection poke against his entrance. Snape let out a similar sound, though that was wilder and deeper like an animal's grunt. He slowed the roll of his hips even more, his thrust barely more than tiny shudders. Soon, Harry felt like begging again. It was unfair how much control Severus had, how hard he could still hold on, while Harry wanted nothing more than to feel that stiff erection penetrate him.

But Snape just continued to toy with him with small prods, lazy kisses over his neck and soon Harry felt that eager anticipation return. He wanted Severus to snap and thrust hard and fast. He knew eventually he would get what he wanted but the man had more will power than Harry ever possessed – and now laid bare and on the brim of an experience of a lifetime, he even doubted he ever had any.

Harry, too, started thrusting back and forth between the bed and Severus, though in his case it was less about control and more about desperate need for friction. The moment he could feel Snape almost breaching him, the man pulled back and Harry cried out in frustration. They played this game for a while, Snape nibbling and kissing every inch of skin he found and soon Harry was once again hard and dripping wet.

"You know why I'm doing this, right?" Asked Snape after another small jerk. His voice was so crooked, it was barely understandable. Yet it resonated deeply in Harry turning him on even more.

"To kill me, would be my guess," Harry grunted, fingernails digging into Severus' lower back.

The man hissed, then chuckled, making Harry shiver. "On the contrary, actually. I fear I will come the moment I'm inside you. You're so goddamn tight, Harry." As he spoke his thrusts became stronger and stronger, his cock pressing harder against Harry's muscles. "I've wanted this for so long, I want to savour every moment. I want to remember the smell of your skin, I want to be able to recall the warmth of your body. Every second I spend with you, every touch, every sensation I want it etched into my brain so I can recall them whenever I need to."

Severus held himself steady for a minute, knowing just one little push would send him past that tight ring. Harry too changed from rocking back and forth to small circles to ease the small burning he felt, though compared to the needy sensation in his lower half it was nothing.

"God Harry, you are incredible," whispered Severus against Harry's neck then finally pushed forward with one hard thrust, making both of them cry out. He didn't stop. He plunged forward again and again, pulling back and pushing deeper and deeper inside his lover.

Harry keened, his sighs and moans loud and fervid. Severus kissed him to silence him, but it was useless, yet the thin lips never left his mouth. Soon Severus was driving into him so hard, Harry had to press his hands against the bedframe before his head would knock against the hard wood.

Sliding smoothly and fast inside, Severus made Harry crave more and more until a point came where he just floated in pure bliss – not orgasming yet, but the sweet sensation of being filled, of being with the man he wanted, and even more, loved was more than he ever experienced.

Wild and ardent their slick, sweaty body moved against each other, immoral and shameless they both begged, for what none of them was certain.

"Fuck, Harry…" Severus cried suddenly, "Oh fuck…" was all he could press out before he jerked, yet he still did not stop his rough thrusts. Harry could sense though how Snape's cock twitched inside him spurting warm come, no doubt. Soon he could feel it slowly streaming down on his perineum, which made him even harder if possible. Snape was still moving inside him, though his moves lacking the former wildness. He was gentle and careful and Harry moved with him in synchrony.

Harry waited but Severus didn't pull out. Instead he just murmured, "You feel so incredible," as he kissed Harry's neck, then jaw then lips. He stilled completely for minutes while their lips battled, tongue sneaking into the other's mouth to taste and explore.

When the kiss ended, Severus finally pulled out and Harry was surprised that he still felt rock hard. He watched the man as he scrambled off the bed, then motioned to him. "Come here, Harry."

Harry climbed in front of him and kneeled up. They kissed again, then Snape twirled him around. He grabbed Harry' cheeks and pulled them aside, then pressed back inside Harry's hot arse, his hard cock still eager to bring Harry to completion as well.

Snape was suddenly wilder than ever. His grip on Harry's wrist as he pulled him back while he thrust forward was bruising and Harry knew these were the marks he was talking about. He sure as hell would feel these for days to come, not to mention the purple marks that would no doubt appear on his waist.

Harry felt the medal he got from Snape dance against his chest from the wild rhythm of Severus' thrust, but he couldn't care less about the brutal force. He was thriving from every second of this, not just tolerating but enjoying the roughness, the desperate need in every move of their bodies. He was claimed, and there was nothing he wanted more.

He was shouting, his whimpers loud and eager until Snape suddenly let go of his hips and draw a strong arm over his shoulder, grabbing Harry's neck firmly and holding him there while he kissed him passionately. His right hand went to Harry' cock and started pumping him fervently and Harry cried into his mouth but he wasn't let go. Snape's long fingers were all covered in precome, sliding slickly on Harry's stiff member. Harry's purple head oozed so much liquid it was dripping down to the blanket.

He almost went insane by the avid pleasure Severus was making him feel. His balls tightened up, and his orgasm was building in the pit of his groin, but he swatted away Severus' hand just in time to save some more minutes for this blessed connection.

"Fucking hell, Severus…" Harry groaned into the other man's mouth. The hand on his throat was so tight, it barely let him form any words. Severus answered with a keen moan that once might have been "Potter," but by the time it reached Harry's ears, was reduced to nothing else than a feral grunt.

Harry arched his back and reached behind, burying his hand in Snape's messy black mane, who in response put his hand around Harry's cock once more and jerked him with smooth strokes.

Teeth bit wildly into soft lips but none of them truly knew what was causing pleasure and what pain anymore. Erratic thrusts, minds becoming hazy from sheer pleasure, voice ragged and rasped – sweat and come mixing beneath them on the sheets as they were panting loud, tired, worn.

It wasn't over for minutes. They clang to each other like children afraid of the dark, only it was the brightness they couldn't handle. It was overwhelming – too much sensation, too much pleasure, too much everything. They passed out, still holding on to each other.

**o.O.o**

Hours later, Severus woke feeling cold. At first, he thought it was because he was back down in the dungeons for some reason. Then he held the air-conditioning in Ettore's house responsible. It didn't occur to him to blame it on the now dried up sweat on his skin from all the strenuous activity for minutes. Only when he opened his eyes to find an also shuddering Potter in his arms, did he become suspicious.

"Potter," he said softly, but the young man didn't even stir. He felt it safe to put him under the blanket. Once Potter stopped shuddering in his sleep, Severus stood up and walked to the window. The room smelled of sweat, sex, and come and though these were all scents he didn't mind, especially when it was a result of fucking Potter almost through the bed, he still opened a window. The moon was high on the star filled sky and the balmy May air was caressing his skin.

He looked over his shoulder and was surprised the glasses were back on Potter's face and green eyes were watching him avidly.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked burrowed deep under the covers like a huge caterpillar.

Severus turned back towards the window.

"There's something you need to know."

"Oh shit," came the answer and Severus heard shifting on the bed. Potter must have sat up but he didn't turn back to check.

"Ettore knew for a while… Besides the curse and the Board, this was what made me truly terrified to make a move."

Potter sighed. "Just cut the crap and say it, Snape."

"I love you." Said Severus clearly to the dark sky.

Harry still asked back. "Excuse me?"

Snape finally turned around. "Ettore was right. He was right all along. The school and the curse were more like excuses. But I cannot do this, not after tonight. Potter, I love you."

The bewildered expression was slowly melting from Potter's face. He was smiling as he said, "Okay. I think you need a drink."

"No, I don't." Severus argued. "I should have listened to Ettore a long time ago, but I won't hide this any longer."

"Look, more than anything I want to tell you to listen to Ettore, believe me," Harry smiled, "but clearly you're not thinking straight at the moment."

"In Italy, it was you-" Snape started but Harry cut in.

" _That_ was in Italy, Severus. We're back in England. As your servant, your courtesan, or whatever we call it, I need to remind you that for _months_ , we managed to behave, mostly thanks to you. And sometimes to Dumbledore's nosy portrait." He added thoughtful.

Severus was shaking his head. "You still do not understand. Harry, if I'm a king you are there next to me on the throne. A courtesan you only are in bed: naked, hard, needy, but everywhere else you do not _serve_ me, you _help_ me, give me advice, guide me."

Snape suddenly started walking up and down in front of the bed. "Why do you think I agreed to all this stupid charity? Not for the school, but for you, because you wanted it."

"And right now, I want you to come back to bed," said Potter.

"You are not taking me seriously." Severus stated.

"You are roaming in my room _naked_ , Severus. Of course, I can't take you seriously. Except the love me part. That better be serious."

"I _am_ serious," Severus said with a roll of his eyes, but he did stop walking a hole in Harry's room and finally sat down on the bed. "And I know what we will do."

"Oh do you now?" Potter asked back, sounding doubtful, though as to why, Severus didn't have a clue. "Do tell."

"You have to quit." Severus said.

"Okay, nothing too drastic, I see," Harry quipped words dripping with sarcasm. He moved closer to Severus on the bed, kneeling up, then straddling Severus, pushing him down onto the sheets. "I thought you had a curse you wanted to be broken and all. But correct me-"

"No, hush, listen." Severus said, his fingers caressing Harry's waist. You have to quit after the semester ends. At least we will make everyone believe you did. But technically, I won't file the papers. We will get married in the summer and I rehire you. Therefore, our relationship can no longer be indecent, or whatever idiocy those fools believe is going on."

"Whoa, whoa!" Cried Harry leaning onto Severus' chest. "Did you just propose to me?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter," Severus snapped at him, ruffling the untidy mob on top of Potter's head. "I am just coming up with a plan that would allow us to be together, while keeping our jobs. It is that simple."

"Snape- No, Severus." Harry corrected himself. "Severus, listen to yourself. Or better yet, listen to _me_. I'm not like Ettore. I marry for life."

"Well," Severus said with a firm nod. "So do I."

There was a momentarily pause then the green eyes went wider than ever. "Oh god, you _did just propose_ to me. But… but… I mean…"

"Well it's not like we don't know each other." Severus explained. "You know me more than anyone, you've seen me in my worst, you probably seen me in my best as well somewhere over the years. And you do not have delusional expectations about living with me, surely."

"Well I never imagined this to happen, that's for sure," murmured Potter then added with a grimace. "Besides, don't talk about it like it's just a business transaction."

"It's a solution," Severus said simply.

"That's why you want to marry me?" Potter cried, slapping Severus' chest.

"No," Answered Severus patiently. "I want to marry you because unfortunately Destiny, or the Gods up there, or whatever idiot decides on matters like this has a _terrible_ sense of humour and they made me fall madly in love with you." Then he added after a moment, "You with your righteous, insufferable self might also have something to do with it, I suspect."

"Oh really, talk to me about terrible sense of humour! You think it's easy to love a sneering, old git, armed with sharp wit and sarcasm? My life will be a nightmare when I'm married to a bastard like you…" Sighed Potter.

"When?" Severus echoed with a smug smile.

Potter just grinned. "Yes, _when_. Which reminds me… I want it noted that I don't want to get married on my birthday, or in July altogether. The weather is just too hot."

"Dully noted, Mr. Potter." Severus said then rolled them over, pining Harry to the bed. "Anything else?" He murmured in a low voice, lips tracing Harry's neck.

"Yes," Harry groaned, his hips already rolling up. "I love you, too, Severus."

**_A couple of days later…_ **

Severus looked at the mountain of workload on the side of his desk and ran ten fingers through his hair. Would this semester never be over?

His wonderful night with Harry had been fading into memories like the bruises on their bodies. The nights he had to spend alone now were more desperate than ever. Whoever thought this one night was a good idea, should have been beheaded, because Severus was suffering and he knew Potter felt the same. Yet, they still had a little over one month till the end of the semester – which was unfortunately a little over one month he was forced to spend far away from Potter's bedroom.

Sheer torture, if anyone asked him.

The knock on the door was unexpected as it was still rather early and most of his teachers were currently still holding their classes.

"Enter," he said, putting down the quill and rolling up the half-written letter he was working on.

The door opened and Severus smiled. "Claire, what a pleasant surprise."

"Hello, Severus," the woman smiled back. "A friend in common asked me to deliver you this." She held out a letter for Severus.

The Headmaster stood and walked to her. He took the rolled-up parchment from her, then pointed at a chair by the desk. "Sit, please. Have tea with me."

"I have a feeling we wouldn't have time to finish it anyway, so I'd rather just skip it, but thanks." She said cryptically.

Severus frowned, then opened the letter, more curious now.

He had to go through it two times to fully understand the whole meaning of the red letters. Yet, he still felt like he had to ask, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Just what it says there." Claire smiled. "The Board of Governors felt it best to change some ancient rules that might not apply anymore in this modern world."

"You're telling me…" Severus wasn't able to finish.

"Yes, Severus. I am telling you there is no rule in the Book that would say the Headmaster mustn't conduct a romantic relationship with one of his or her teachers."

"What do you mean, there isn't. There is. It _was_ there, Claire, I checked it. Many times, believe me."

"I believe you, Severus. But it was deleted."

" _When_ was it deleted?" Severus asked suspiciously.

"A couple of days ago," Answered Claire nonchalantly. Seeing Severus' puzzled expression, Claire explained. "You see, it seems to me that you made a rather powerful friend in Ettore Serafini. His aunt is not just the oldest family friend of about half the Governors, but Ettore had just made a _rather_ _large_ donation to Hogwarts. Now the Board is all for the traditions, as we know, but even they wouldn't say no to people like Ettore Serafini and Coco Baron. Especially not when all they ask in return is this tiny little favour to let the hero of the Wizarding World date another hero. Even if they both happen to be working at this school."

"That's impossible," Severus insisted. "Rules don't get just deleted. Especially not at Hogwarts."

"They do, when you are friends with Ettore Serafini." Smiled Claire. "You see, Severus, the universe works in balance. You and Harry have been giving more to this school, than they could ever repay you. Think of this as all your hard work for charity has finally paid off."

Severus looked at the woman in front of him, still not quiet believing what just happened, then only said in the calmest voice possible, "If you will excuse me now, Claire. A rather urgent appointment just came up."

With that, he was out of his office.

**o.O.o**

Later that evening, miles and miles away from the cold walls of Hogwarts, Ettore Serafini was peacefully drinking a glass of cool Cabernet in his garden. He was resting his bare feet on another chair, as he enjoyed the flowery scent of May in Italy. The fig tree over him was blooming and the air carried its sweet scent to him.

Rajah, his cat, was lazily lying over Ettore's shoulder, lifting his head only when a bold mosquito came too close. The others were scattered around the estate, though Ettore would swear the dark, large mop couple feet away was the sleeping Orsetto.

The air was warm and the stars bright, yet his heart, first time in a long while, wasn't in Italy. He missed his Aunt and Scotland, the good ale that felt more refreshing during the summer than any wine in Italy. But more than anything, he missed his friends.

He thought perhaps it was time to take a longer visit to Britain – _Zia_ Coco had been pestering him about it anyways. Perhaps, he could stay for a year or two… maybe longer. He could design clothes from anywhere, after all. Besides, there was plenty of excitement across the Channel as well.

He did not notice the bird – it was Rajah who lifted his head, which in the end made Ettore look away from the mountains far away.

The sturdy owl landed on the table. Not in the least bothered by the hungry gaze the cat was giving her, she held up one of her legs. There was an envelope attached to it. Ettore freed her of her delivery and she jumped back in the air right away.

He examined the letter. There was nothing on it from the outside, not even an addressee. He found that weird, then his eyes caught the seal on the back. He run his fingers over the crimson stamp and he smiled softly. He could sense the tiny lion, raven, badger and snake engraved in the vax.

He broke the seal and shook the envelope, but only a single paper fell out. He took it in hand and, sipped into his wine, as he took a look at it – which in retrospect was a great mistake.

He spat the wine out immediately, barely avoiding the sleeping sheepdog.

The page was a picture, and not just any picture. Ettore felt like he had to cover Rajah's eyes before it would ruin the cat's innocence.

As he was not really familiar with the definition of innocent in the first place, he studied the photo in depth.

Neither Harry, nor Severus seemed to wear anything beside the sweat on their skin, though Severus still managed to hide his beautiful body. His excuse was excellent, Ettore thought – after all Severus was deep inside Harry. To Ettore's utter satisfaction, it was a magical photo, so he could see their hips thrusting forward, their lips moving against each other in a wild kiss. Severus' hand was wrapped around Harry's cock, and as he moved it up and down, Harry was spurting little streaks of come towards the camera.

Ettore felt himself harden right away and his previous thought about relocating somewhere in Britain – possibly in Scotland – seemed to become firm as well.

He shook the envelope again. Surely, an image like this would not arrive without a teasing word or two. There was no second letter but he noticed some scrawled, small writing on the back of the picture.

It was just a single line:

_Thank you for everything, Ettore_

_SS, HP_

* * *

_The End_

* * *

_Sorry it doesn't move_ ;_;


End file.
